Bitter Beginnings

((OOC: This thread has already been graded.))

“Go on!” he spat, his voice was full of contempt. “Show him what you farm boys are made of.” Ser Alliser Thorne, Master at Arms of the Night’s Watch new recruits at Castle Black, watched as Jon Snow, recently arrived to begin his training to join the Night’s Watch, despatched yet another recruit. The recruit, named Grenn, staggered away from Jon, his hand covering his now bloody nose, as he grumbled in pain. Ser Alliser groaned. “If that were a real sword you’d be dead.”

Jon was panting somewhat by this point, this having been the forth opponent he had gone up against, and bested, in a row. “Lord Snow here,” the mocking name that Alliser had labelled Jon with didn’t sit well with the Bastard, but there was nothing he could do but bite his tongue. “grew up in a castle, spitting down on the likes of you.” Alliser scanned the group of recruits who were standing in a circle around the training area. “Pyp,” he started, picking Jon’s next opponent. “Do you think Ned Stark’s Bastard bleeds like the rest of us?”

Confidently, Pyp stepped forward into the middle of the circle, moving in a circle as he approached Jon. Pyp lashed forward with his blunted training sword, carving it through the air horizontally. With apt speed Jon leaned his body back, the sword missing him with room to spare, and before Pyp could recover from his swing Jon jabbed his sword forward, slamming the blunted tip into Pyp’s gut. The quickly defeated recruit stumbled backward, coughing and with no air in his lungs to even groan in pain.

“Next!” Ser Alliser cried out, and yet again another recruit stepped forward. Jon and the recruit circled each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Fatigue was steadily setting in with Jon, but he wouldn’t back down. The recruit made the first move, with a downward horizontal slash at Jon’s legs, which the trained Bastard easily blocked and countered, but this time the recruit managed to block. Jon repeated the same attack, allowing the recruit to block it a second time before he reached forward, grabbed his arm from underneath his armpit and threw him through the air and onto the floor. “Next!”

Jon was starting to think Alliser would keep doing this under either all the other recruits could no longer stand, or Jon lost; the latter wasn’t an option he was about to consider. The recruit that stepped forward went by the name of Rast. There was no fancy footwork or hesitation with Rast, who simply stood directly in front of Jon and swung downward towards his shoulder. Jon Blocked it easily enough, brought his sword underneath that of Rast’s and lifted it into the air, where it collided and blocked a third sword that had swung down from above.

Snow had seen the second recruit sneaking in from his side, attempt to attack him while he was busy, no doubt a dirty trick Alliser had orchestrated. With the sneak attack blocked, Jon turned to the recruit and booted him in his stomach, but before he had even hit the ground Jon turned to Rast and slammed the hilt of his sword into his face. Both Rast and the other recruit fell to the ground, defeated and left with nothing but pain for their efforts.

“Well Lord Snow,” Alliser began, Jon turning to look at him. “It appears you’re the least useless person here.” Jon wanted to say something to him, to curse the man, but he was out of breath and breathing heavily, and rising to him would no doubt just make matters worse. “The rest of you are useless! There’s only so much of you all I can stomach in a day.” he comments gained no remark from any of them. Alliser looked back at Jon Snow.

“Since you’re better than all these recruits, Lord Snow, perhaps a full man of the Night’s Watch would be better practise for you?” His smirk was all that Jon needed to see to know that this wouldn’t be pleasant. “Ser Florien,” Alliser called out, looking beyond Jon Snow. “We’ve got a recruit who needs some teaching.” Jon slowly turned around to see who his next opponent would be.

Word Count: 714.

Ser Florien Flowers stood watching the new recruits to the Nights Watch training in yard. In truth there wasn't a lot of training going on as one boy, Jon Snow, was outclassing all of the others by a large margin although that wasn't much of an achievement considering how useless all of the others seemed to be with their blades. In a way Florien saw some of himself in his fellow bastard as he too had come to the Wall and battered the boys that where suppose to be his brothers, he did view them as such because he felt he was much better than all of those he had trained with by quite a bit. The only difference between the knight when he had arrived at the Wall and Jon Snow now seemed to be that Ser Alliser Thorne disliked the Northern bastard whereas he had taken a shine to southren one. Florien laughed time and time again as Lord Snow, as the Master of Arms had taken to calling him, defeated each and every one of the recruits that came his way with ease, it was very funny to watch and made for good entertainment on an average boring day at the Wall. Things where about to get better.

“Since you’re better than all these recruits, Lord Snow, perhaps a full man of the Night’s Watch would be better practise for you? Ser Florien!” Alliser Thorne called out, "We’ve got a recruit who needs some teaching.”

"And you want me to do it?" Florien responded, sounding less than impressed. As skilled as Jon Snow was with a blade, the knight felt he was better but, then again, he considered himself better than most people. Hightower's Bastard, as people had called Florien in a past life, smirked at Jon when he turned to look at him.

"Aye, Florien, I do," Ser Alliser spoke to Florien much more pleasantly than he did to do Lord Snow, the knight had been one of the Master at Arm's favourite recruits when he had first come to the Wall and had always liked him. Florien liked Alliser but did not consider him a friend, he viewed him more as a man to be respected with in the Night's Watch for the work he did in training everyone that came to take the black.

"Fine then, Alliser," Florien said, walking towards the senior member of the Night's Watch, "Should I arm myself with one of those useless wooden things you call swords?"

"You should," Alliser said, almost smiling at Florien's jesting. He was useless a fairly serious man but when he liked you there where times whenever he could drop his serious persona and become an altogether nicer person, that was something Florien had worked out early on and used to his advantage.

"Whatever you say, ser," Florien walked to where several of the wooden practice swords lay and selected the one with which he would fight Jon Snow, at first he had been considering turning down Ser Alliser's offer to fight the boy but it had been a while since he had a challenge, he hadn't fought anyone decent with a sword since he had lived in Oldtown. All of the recruits he had been made to train with where simpletons and the bands of wildlings he had encountered on the rangings he had part of in the last had been no better but Florien felt that Jon Snow would be a different matter altogether. He walked over to the area of the training yard in which his fellow bastard stood and looked the boy over a few times before looking back at Alliser Thorne.

"I fear this one won't be much of a challenge for me," Florien said with an air of cockyness about him.

"That's the point, he's getting too big for his boots and I want someone to teach him the lesson none of these useless idiots could," the two men shared a short laugh before Florien turned his eyes back to Jon Snow, the knights confidence levels where high. Alliser had trained them both and he seemed to think that Florien was the better of the two and, on top of that, his opponent appeared tired from his previous few fights even if they had been extremely easy for him.

"Tell me boy, are you ready for your first defeat?"

( Word Count - 731. )

As Jon turned to face this Ser Florien, his eyes fell upon several Black Brothers who had been watching the new recruits training, though Jon as betting out of the group of about five or so of them, that he could pick out which one was Ser Florien before he even gave it away by moving of talking. The one in the middle held himself like a noble born, he commanded clear respect from the others around him and he appeared to view himself as if he were in a higher position than them, despite them being his Black Brothers; all this Jon could tell from merely looking at the man, the way he stood and held himself. The man reminded Jon of Theon Greyjoy in many ways, though this one was taller and more handsome, and when he began to make his way forward and talk to Ser Alliser Thorne, Jon knew he had been right.

As Ser Alliser and Ser Florien continued to talk, Jon remained in complete silence, watching his likely soon to be opponent progress towards him in an extremely nonchalant manner. Jon had never heard of Ser Florien, neither had he seen his skill with a sword, and not only did Ser Alliser believe Florien to be superior but now Florien had seen at least some of Jon’s skill, and thus had Jon at a clear disadvantage. There’s no shame in losing to a superior opponent. Jon reminded himself, though part of him wanted nothing more to assert his dominance and show what he was made of.

As Ser Florien finally selected one of the training swords and moved into the training circle, where Jon was still waiting for him, he smirked confidently as he spoke. "I fear this one won't be much of a challenge for me." there was more than a little bit of cockiness in his voice, though perhaps Jon could use his overconfidence in his own abilities to his advantage.

"That's the point, he's getting too big for his boots and I want someone to teach him the lesson none of these useless idiots could!” with that both Ser Alliser and Ser Florien shared a laugh, and many of the Black Brothers who were watching joined in, but all the while Jon remained still and silent, steadily catching his breath from his previous bouts. Finally Ser Florien seemed ready, finally looking at and addressing Jon Snow.

“Tell me boy, are you ready for your first defeat?” Ser Florien mockingly asked, though it was clear the man felt that this was a rhetorical question.

“Lets see.” Jon merely stated, in a low mumble. Words would not serve him now, and he would not lower himself to taunting his opponent; there was no honour in that.

Almost immediately Jon began to move in a steady circle, which no doubt Florien would mimic; it appeared to almost be standard practise in sword fights. The Bastard of Winterfell had considered stalling and allowing Ser Florien to attack first, so that he could judge his skill and react with a counter-attack, but he deemed it too risky. What if Ser Florien’s skill far surpassed that of his own? Then he would find himself defeated extremely quickly. No, he would need to attack first and try to take control of the battle from there.

Having decided on his course of action, Jon wasted no time in putting it into effect. His right arm lifted as he raised his sword and lunged towards Ser Florien, and with great speed the Bastard of Winterfell aimed to bring his blade crashing down on Ser Florien’s left shoulder. It was an obvious attack, but it was quick and strong and could not be ignored. Before Jon could defeat Ser Florien he had to know what the Black Knight was capable of.

Word Count: 640.
Total Word Count thus far: 1,354.

In all honesty Ser Florien did not expect much from Jon Snow, or Lord Snow as Alliser Thorne seemed to have nick named him, as he had been watching him fight with the other new recruits. He was definitely a decent swordsman, much better than many of the men at the Wall, but Florien was an anointed knight with real experience in battle, something he was sure Jon did not have, and he was certain that he would be able to defeat the boy without much effort. The ranger was more accustomed the feel of a real steel blade in his hands so he was unsure as to how good he would be with a wooden practice sword, he gave it a few things through the air in order to adjust to the weight of the very light weapon all whilst watching his fellow bastard. It was obvious that Snow had fought against better men than the boys he was currently training with, he had a good, strong grip on his weapon, his stance was quite good and he had immediately began to move in a circle as was extremely common in sword fights. Florien began to imitate his movement even if it was probably what Snow was expecting, the knight wanted to give the boy a chance to show off his skills before defeating him.

For but a few seconds Jon seemed to be thinking about his first move, he made his mind up quickly and attempted to strike first. He came towards Florien with surprising speed and tried to bring his sword down upon the knight's left shoulder but, fast as Snow was, the more experienced man had pretty good reactions. Florien shifted his weight to the the right just in time to avoid the boy's strike, he then took a step back and smirked confidently at Jon, once again giving him a slight chance, before taking a step forward and swinging his sword for the young recruit's right arm. By Florien's usual standards the swing was a sloppy one, he had not yet fully adjusted to the light weight of the wooden weapon, and that would give Jon Snow a better chance to evade or block his strike than he would had they been using real steel in their fight. Despite the slightly weak swing Florien was still confident that, come the end of their little fight, he would be the victor based upon his level of experience and Snow's fatigue from his previous battles with the other recruits. These thoughts where rushing through Florien's head because, in actual fact, he was still mid-swing and his attack had not yet been blocked, evaded or made contact with Jon.

Before the vertical slash could even get near its target, Florien Flowers shifted his weight to his other side, moving his body just enough so that the slice would sail through nothing but air. Just as Ser Rodrik Cassel had taught him back at Winterfell, Jon made not of the way Florien moved and his speed, as both could and would no doubt give Jon excellent incite into he sort of opponent he was up against. However, it was the confident smirk that Jon saw on Florien’s face that spoke loudest of all. He believes this fight to have already been won. Jon’s greatest ally had just become Florien’s overconfidence.

Florien was quick to react with an attack of his own, leaving Jon little to no time to see it and react accordingly. The slice came horizontally, from Florien’s left side and to Jon’s right arm. Jon had made his initial attack with his right arm, after all he was right-handed, and so attacking his undefended arm showed that Florien was intelligent as well as skilled. Jon allowed his initial attack to follow through, so that the tip of his practise sword clanked against the floor, before grabbing the swords pommel with both hands and holding it in place. He lifted the blade upwards from that position, blade-tip still facing down, and blocked Florien’s attack against the flat of his blade.

Having stepped into his attack, Florien had managed to put a fair amount of strength behind it, which Jon felt vibrate up his arms. With Florien pushing pressure against Jon’s sword, the younger Bastard decided to use it against him. Taking the weight of the sword and the pressure mainly into his left hand, Jon hooked Florien’s sword and span his blade upwards, anti-clockwise, as to use Florien’s own momentum against him. Letting go of his sword pommel with his right hand, Jon waited until Florien would potentially be wide open before taking a step forward with his right foot, clenching his right first and sending it flying through the air towards Florien’s face.

Whether the punch landed or not, Jon would be damned if he left it at that and allowed Florien to counter. His weight on his forward right foot, Jon twisted his foot in the dirt before spinning his body so that his left arm, and sword, span round behind him, where he attempted to use the momentum of his spin to hit Florien with a horizontal swing of his sword. It came in hard and fast, aimed at Florien’s mid-section, though the attack had thrown all of Jon’s weight onto his right leg, and as such he was extremely unbalanced; a weakness he hoped that Florien would either not pick up on, or not be able to do anything about.

Word Count: 465.
Total Word Count thus far: 1,819.

Florien had not been expecting much from Snow but it soon became obvious that the boy was better than he had initially though and he now knew he was going to have to try harder if he intended to win; he had given the recruit two small chances and he had made the most of them, the knight was impressed but was not going to provide his opponent with any more opportunities. The younger bastard was proving that he had some skill with his blade, he had dealt with Florien's attack by allowing his sword to reach the ground before pulling it upwards quickly to block the knight's swing before it could make contact with his body, it had been a smart move on Snow's part but Florien knew that he was capable of much better and his confidence levels where still extremely high despite the fact he now knew the fight would not be as easy as he had first thought. The knight could tell that his strike had achieved something, there had been quite a lot of power behind the attack as he had stepped into it and Snow's arms where practically shaking from the shockwaves the clash of swords had caused.

Jon did something that Florien had not been expecting, he used their clash of swords to his advantage by using the knight's own momentum against him in order to send his blade spinning upwards. Snow waited until the time was the right before attempting to punch Florien in the face but he did not stop there, the younger bastard spun his body in order to get some momentum behind a powerful swing of his sword which was aimed at the knight's midsection. This was a bad situation to be in but, on top of being a skilled swordsman, Florien's years of training had included working upon his observational skills whilst in battle in order to pick up upon any and all mistakes make by his enemies; Snow had slipped up for the first time in their little fight. Florien noticed that the recruit had put all of his weight upon his right when he had initiated his attack and he fully intended to make the most of this; in order to avoid both of Jon's attack the knight dropped down upon his right knee and pressed his hands down upon the ground in order to maintain his balance whilst using using his left leg to kick Snow's right leg out from under; he had already been off balance and the kick sent him tumbling down to the ground.

Florien used his hands to push himself back to his feet and, rather than giving Jon a fair chance to get back to his feet, he took a step towards Snow and kicked him in the stomach; he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. The knight didn't like the fact that the recruit had come close to beating him, he didn't even care that it had taken a bit of dirty fighting, the kick to the stomach, to put an end to things.

Jon’s fist flew through the air, on target and swift, but before it could even get close to Florien, the Bastard Knight ducked down beneath it and Jon hit nothing but air once more; a feeling that was getting frustratingly old very quickly. Jon silently snarled as he then quickly through all of his momentum into his spinning sword swing, hoping that the added impetus from the failed punch would further speed it up. However, as he turned and the sword struck where Jon knew Florien’s mid-section should have been, he suddenly noticed that the man had dropped himself onto the floor, Jon’s training sword ripping through the air directly above Florien’s head.

Time almost appeared to move in slow motion at that point. As Jon looked down at his opponent, crouched down on the floor to his side, the Bastard of Winterfell could tell what was coming before it even happened; he was off balance, Florien Flowers was about to take advantage of it, and Jon was about to get a very close inspection of the hard floor. Florien’s leg flicked out from underneath him, crashing into the shin of Jon’s right leg, which he had been balancing his entire body on. Jon felt the power behind the sweep send his own foot sliding across the ground and then, just like that, he felt nothing under his foot, as the world began to slant. Everything sped up at that point. Jon’s feet flew above his head and gravity took over, slamming him down against the stone floor with a hard thud.

Pain shot through his left side, which he had landed on, and as his head bounced off of the floor his eyes momentarily flashed white, and Jon could have sworn he was back at Winterfell, training with Robb. However, when his vision returned and he realised where he was, Florien was already up on his feet, and before Jon could raise himself to continue he felt a crushing blow to his stomach as Florien delivered a vicious kick. All the air rushed out of Jon in a few spluttering coughs, as he clutched onto his stomach.

Florien had fought dirty to finish the fight. Jon could have continued, he could have got up in time to fight Florien fairly, but that poor excuse of a Knight had opted for the un-honourable route. Jon, through all of his pain, was livid. He had been humiliated, made out to be a fool, and worse of all, Ser Alliser had got exactly what he wanted. Jon tried to move his legs, to find some traction on the ground to help him get to his feet, but he found none; he doubted he could even make himself stand properly, the amount of pain he was feeling. Tilting his head upward, to look at Florien, Jon growled through the pain, his eyes watering from the blow.

“Y-you…chea-cheated!” he managed to hoarsely grumble, his stomach muscles still tensed from the pain.

Word Count: 497.
Total Word Count thus far: 2,316.

“Y-you…chea-cheated!” Jon Snow grumbled, from his position upon the floor. Florien knew he had hurt the boy.

"Let me tell you something Snow, something everyone needs to learn. In battle, there's no such thing as cheating; it's all about who lives and who dies," he replied.

Ser Alliser Thorne and some of the recruits that had been humiliated in combat by Jon had begun to laugh at this misfortune, they could all see that he was in physical pain and now they seemed to want to add insult to injury; not one of them seemed to care about the fact that Florien had resorted to fighting dirty to defeat the recruit. The knight felt that had the fight gone on any longer he would have won in the end anyway, kicking Snow whilst he was down had just been a way to put an end to things quickly and to release some of his anger in the process; anger at Jon for testing his previously unmatched sword fighting skills and anger that had been building up within Florien over the time he had spent at the Wall. He tossed his wooden sword down upon the ground beside the Bastard of Winterfell and made his way towards Ser Alliser Thorne, who seemed happier than ever; he was smiling for once. Despite being one of the old knight's favourites even Florien knew it was rare for the Night's Watch

"Is that what you wanted from me?" Florien asked, he was smiling now too. Even if he had only beaten a recruit, he had gained some favour from the master at arms that he would use to his advantage at some point.

"Yes, Ser Florien!" Ser Alliser exclaimed, "You did exactly as I asked. Recruits, this is what a real swordsman look likes!"

"Thank you, Alliser," Florien said, "I think I'll be going now. I could be doing with something to eat."

"I might need your services again, Florien, if Lord Snow get's too big for his boots again," he said, still smiling.

"I'd glady teach the boy another lesson, if he's brave enough to face me next time my services are needed."

Florien shook Ser Alliser's hand before turning to the recruits and, just to show off, gave them a little bow before walking off in the direction of the Great Hall. He was extremely cold, he was tired from his fight with Jon Snow and he was hungry; he would get himself a nice bowl of warm stew before heading back to his room in Castle Black for a while, to get some rest.

"Let me tell you something Snow,” Florien began, half bending down to speak to Jon; it was insult to injury to force Jon Snow to look up at him like that, and Florien no doubt knew it. “Something everyone needs to learn. In battle, there's no such thing as cheating; it's all about who lives and who dies.” as Florien turned and moved away from him, dropping his practise sword on the ground next to Jon. The younger Bastard voiced a low growl as he once again tried to push himself up. If he could just get to his feet, he’d show Florien Flowers just who he had insulted, but the pain just proved too much.

Managing to force himself up onto one knee, Jon noticed that Florien had moved to Ser Alliser. "Is that what you wanted from me?" Florien now had his back to Jon, but the expression Ser Alliser’s face said it all.

"Yes, Ser Florien!" Ser Alliser exclaimed through laughter. "You did exactly as I asked.” with that he turned to address the rest of the Night’s Watch recruits. “Recruits, this is what a real swordsman look likes!" Jon disagreed greatly with that statement, though he felt it wiser not to voice his disagreement.

"Thank you, Alliser," the smugness in his voice was sickening. "I think I'll be going now. I could be doing with something to eat." he turned to the rest of the recruits and bowed at them, mocking Jon once more, and with that Florien stepped passed Ser Alliser and began making his way towards the Great Hall.

"I might need your services again, Florien, if Lord Snow get's too big for his boots again." he mockingly called after Florien. The Bastard Knight laughed at that, responding without even looking back.

"I'd gladly teach the boy another lesson, if he's brave enough to face me next time my services are needed." and with that Florien rounded a corner and disappeared from few.

By this point Jon had managed to force himself back up onto his feet, though he was hunched over somewhat and was still cradling his stomach because of the pain. With a drawn out breath Jon fixed his view on Ser Alliser, who in turn was looking directly at him. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson Lord Snow. In this training field you’re nothing but a recruit, and don’t you forget it.”

Jon tried to bite his lip, he tried not to respond and make matters worse, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Anyone else you want me to fight, I’ll be glad to.” he retorted with sharply. “Same time tomorrow?” he added, rhetorically. Ser Alliser’s smile vanished and was instantly replaced with a look of disgust. Barging past Jon, he moved towards the other recruits.

“Trainings over. Get out of here, the lot of you! None of you are worth my time!” and with that he stormed off, vanishing into the Castle.

With another deep breath Jon lifted his sword and stabbed it down into a patch of dirt, it wobbling back and forth from the impact. Straightening himself up, with some difficulty, Jon looked up to a nearby stairway and noticed both Lord Commander Mormont and Tyrion Lannister watching. Had they been there the whole time? Seen the whole training session? He was unsure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Jon held their gaze for a few seconds, wondering what they were thinking and what they had been discussing, before he looked away and brushed himself down.

He would no doubt be aching in the morning from the injuries that Florien Flowers had given him, and with another training session he was like to struggle a little more than he had done today. He was not looking forward to the prospect, but he would not give Ser Alliser the satisfaction of knowing he was succeeding. A hot bath, he thought to himself. Soak in a hot bath and you’ll feel perfectly fine. he couldn’t help but chuckle at that notion. “At the Wall?” he said in response to himself. “I’d be so lucky.” and with that he moved towards the Castle, to head towards his room.

Word Count: 703.
Total Finished Word Count: 3,019.

Graded by Josmyn:

Rewards
Jon Snow| 938G, 188xp
Florien Flowers| 500G, 100xp