6 August 2015
Bells
His long dark blade entered its warm hairy body. Jon wan not used to seeing wolves this far south, “we better head back, mother and father shall be worried.” Jon had no response to Alexa’s words, he just stared off in the distance, towards Raven Fall. Jon had never seen wolves here before and he thought about its warm dark blood.
“Jon! Are you even listening, we need to go back now.” Alexa certainly could be very moody when she was out of the city.
“What is is now little sister? You haven't stopped talking since up north.” Jon sighed and hopped on his horse and began to crunch the autumn leaves with the hooves of his shimmering horse. 
Alexa was just 9 now, a young girl at the most, certainly not a woman. She was a lady to be in just a few years now however. Jon was 15, a lorde now of Raven Fall, a grown boy practically. The throne was his in time, Jon called out to the large Redwood door and it lowered slowly onto the ground with a crunch of leaves. Alexa quickly paced into the city on her own pony and was lifted off and into Sebastian's arms.
“Where have you been young lady? Off adventuring i suspect.” The king of Raven Fall and Jon’s father. He was a large based man and had black hair that shined in the bright early morning sun. His robe touched the ground lightly, Isabella approached them and smiled and kissed Alexa. The queen of the city, beautiful.
“What is this blood Jon? What trouble have you  been causing?” Sebastian said.
Jon looked slowly down at his riding leathers and saw the dark red streak falling down his pant leg. “Oh nothing, just a wolf, nothing I can't really handle.” The horses needed to be put up now and Jon was very hungry from the journey. Jon went inside the castle, and began to eat some bread he had taken off the table. His shoulder was grabbed and Jon spun around and saw Eddard’s face close to his, “Are our plans ready brother?” Eddard, Jon's older brother, Heir to the throne and taller than Jon could hope. Black hair like their father and large base just the same. “Yes, We are ready to head to Westeros tonight.”
Dusk had nearly come and so Jon and Eddard left Raven Fall in the deep black night, consumed them. Westeros was only a few hours travel from the great city they lived in, the night covered them entirely like a grown mans coat on a young boy who had lost his way in the cold. “Slow down Jon, I can barely see my own hand much less you in this dark!” Jon chuckled and knew that Eddard was far behind him, but not as far as he thought. Jon slowed down to Eddards horse’s stride. “Very well, We should be near Westeros any minute now, not too far.” Jon said. Now Raven Fall was quite a large city, but it was almost a needle in the haystack of Westeros. The wealth and size was so great that you could practically drown a man in his own gems and gold.
“They say the King wears his weight in dragonscale.” Jon said. Dragonscale, more rare than any gem or any amount of gold, only the wealthiest has such a treasure. “Don't believe everything you hear little brother.” Said Eddard as they rode emerged in the darkness.
Up ahead in the road, they could see the faint light of the tower of Westeros. Up ahead they could see the faint light of the massive towers of the great city Westeros. The torches lit the massive walls like a dragon had come back from the grave and breathed fire on the stone bricks. “Hurry brother, we are nearly there and we don’t have all the time in the world you may think we do.” Eddard was always impatient with everything he did. Jon smirked at this thought and rode down the hill harshly and Eddard followed soon behind with a curse here and a branch in his face there. They could see the large gold bricks from here in the walls, party and spirit was in the air.
“Put up your hood! We are here on business if you didn't remember.” Jon did what Eddard said and put up his deep purple hood. Jon thought of their plan they had made and saw no flaws in it. For Jon and Eddard were not here on business but rather a contract. Jon and Eddard had both made a bind with the Azenian Assassins. Not only were Jon and Eddard here to kill someone, oh no. They were here for the Azenians to kill the king himself, the man of the house! The King of Westeros if you would, but it was a contract none the less.
A deed hopefully for Jon and Eddard, not known by a single man except the ruler of the Azenians. Riding up slowly, they tied their horses to a tree with a small rope they found. “Alright, Jon we've done this a hundred times before, let’s go!” A hundred times or so it seems. Eddard paced quickly ahead and pulled of his bag and set it down. He pulled out a small dagger and a long rope with grapple on the end.
Jon and Eddard climbed quickly up the wall with a large light ahead of them. As they reached the top, they climbed over the large wall and landed quietly on the tower floor. Some called the top of the towers in Westeros the peak of the world. “Alright let’s go ahead and he-” Eddard was interrupted however.
“Hey! What are you two lads doing up here!” A guard in platemail strode towards them and pulled his long metal sword out its sheath. Before another word could be spoken Eddard was already across the tower floor and Jon watched as the long dagger entered the man's neck. Eddard advanced and pulled his knife out of the guard's neck and wiped it. Warm blood spilled over the lion of Westeros house symbol. “Forgive me my friend.” Eddard let down his body and prayed a prayer that they had been taught by the Ancient Athenian books. The guard's eyes looked on with horror into the flame, then slowly closed in now and forever disbelief. “Eddard! That was unnecessary to kill that man!” Jon looked in shock on the ground and saw as crimson poured onto the hard, cold floor. “Any man who wears that lion is not innocent brother. You know that!” Eddard approached a door In the tower wall and he budged it open. “Are you coming or not?” Eddard said. Jon stared down at the now dark red floor. Jon sighed and went after Eddard as he soundlessly paced down the darkly lit stairs
Hoods now off they stood at the exit door into the courtyard and they fixed their collars. They burst open the door and into hot sweaty noise. The party was buzzing and Jon smiled as he smelled the summer wine. Jon did not much understand the life of partying, Eddard however absolutely loved doing just that. “This is not the time brother, another day we can drink to our heart's content.” Eddard cursed and followed Jon through the dense and alive crowd.
As they entered the main hall they stared in awe at what they saw. Wenches and jugglers all around on pedestals. Fellow party goers were all around and drinking. Inside the king was sitting, consuming what some would call a throne. Food covering his hairy, laughing face. Women were near and laughed innocently as they looked on into the busy room. Eddard leaned against a pedestal right next to Jon, “Do you see how he eats? It’s sickening really.” Eddard said. “Indeed, what are we to do now? He is surrounded on every side.” Jon stared as he said this into the room where guards were strewn everywhere he seemed to look. Eddard chuckled and turned off the pedestal and turned as he walked into the crowd.
As Eddard walked he cursed with a slur and knocked over a wench with glass in her hand. Jon laughed silently as he watched guards drawn away from the king like a horse to the trough. Jon took his place now, “Hello my grace, how are you this fine evening?” As Jon walked in the very women next to their beloved king left his side like a poorly trained dog. The king stood slowly off his fat bottom and slowly sat back down as Jon pulled his long, thin sword out its dark sheath.
“What do you want boy, you come to threaten me in my house?” The king was sweating slightly but seemed rather calm to be a dead man. Jon approached closer as he heard the guards yelling at Eddard. “The Athenians send their regards.” Jon said as he turned back to face Tyron the III. The thin blade danced through the air and into the neck of the king. The air now red with mist seemed to sigh as Tyron sputtered curses and fell on his fat back and drowned in his blood, now fresh.
Jon looked down at Tyron’s fresh corpse and felt almost bad for the man. He was a poor leader however. Jon looked at Eddard, and put up his deep purple hood with a sad, spattered with blood hand. Eddard looked on and saw Jon’s face and knew what had happened. His drunken face returned to normal and he sputtered out some slurred words one more time before returning to his brother. Eddard pushed through annoyed guards and went to Jon. They left the city slowly and heard in the air the noises of bells in the air as if it was a Sunday morning.