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Game of Thrones: The Ruler- Chapter 12: Tower of Joy
🕑 Added 2025-06-19 11:57:06 +0000 UTCBy the time Jon and Slyvia finished killing the eleven attackers, the remaining eleven crew members too had arrived on the deck of the ship, drawn by the commotion and screams of the fighting.
Jon stood still, his expression unreadable, his sword dripping with fresh blood.
The fresh arrivals stared at the scattered corpses and a feeling of fear settled in their hearts.
Jon turned and his cold, piercing gaze settled on these men. The eyes of Jon were so intense that they instinctively stepped back in fear. A chill ran down their spine and they had understood that if did something undesirable, their result would be the same as their comrades.
“I have no enmity with any of you,” Jon steely voice brought them out of their stupor. “If you want to live, keep your end of the bargain.”
“And do not cross or try to fool me,” he boomed.
One of them, likely the most senior among them, nodded his head rapidly.
His face was pale as he agreed without hesitation. “We will do as you say. Just do not kill us.”
Jon sighed and gave a thin smile.
“Good,” he said. “You seem more sensible than these fools.”
He then turned toward Slyvia, who was busy rummaging through the corpses searching their pockets. The remaining crew felt a surge of resentment seeing her take coins from their fallen comrades, but not one dared object. The blood soaked deck and the corpses were reminder enough and this was prize they were paying for offending these two.
A few minutes later, Slyvia was done. She tied the collected gold dragons into a cloth bundle and slung it over her shoulder. A decent haul they had made.
She discarded her sword too. This was the sword she had picked up from the bandits and instead picked up the captain’s weapon. The steel of this sword was of a finer quality.
Without another word, Jon and Slyvia returned to their cabin.
For the remainder of the voyage, Jon remained alert. He regularly checked on the crew, ensuring they were steering the ship in the right direction towards Sunspear and were harbouring no plans of revenge.
Fortunately, the surviving sailors had no such intentions. They had not that much of courage. The rest of the journey passed without incident.
Eleven days later, the ship finally docked at the port Sunspear.
Jon stepped off the ship and immediately discarded his heavy fur cloak, keeping only the lighter inner tunic. For the first time in his life, he truly felt the heat of summer.
Slyvia was still dressed in her worn and tattered clothes, and since Jon had not to worry about being found and they had few coins to spare, the duo indulged themselves in a bit of shopping.
Slyvia bought a couple of simple outfits. These practical and suitable for combat. For a woman, if they wanted dress which did not hinder her fighting skills and yet were elegant at the same time, no one came close to Dorner. The Dornish fought or indulged in pleasure. Men and Women both.
They then sought out a local merchant and purchased two horses for seven gold dragons and a carriage for two more. Jon had grown fond of the comfort of carriage travel and whatever treasure his father had might left, would need a carriage to be carried away.
He also spent some more coins on provisions for a month. Unlike his journey through the North, where forests provided meat and fresh water, the deserts of Dorne offered no such luxuries. He needed to be prepared.
Once everything was secured, Jon hitched the horses to the carriage, climbed on the two horses with Slyvia, and began the journey toward the Tower of Joy. The legendary tower was nestled within the Red Mountains near the Prince’s Pass.
Once they were outside the population centre where no one would question horses moving ahead without a guide, the duo moved inside the carriage. Jon entered the minds of the two horses and they were good to follow the path themselves.
Slyvia, though she had witnessed this earlier in North too, was confused at how could the horse move themselves. But she did not question.
The road to the Tower of Joy was known for being infested with bandits and desert raiders. They often concealed within the dunes and rocky outcroppings.
With few people or animals to disturb the sand, any passing caravan was visible from miles away. It made ambushes easy and was common in these roads.
To stay safe from this danger, Jon had taken control over several birds. Using them, he would scout ahead for a long distance and avoided any such bandit group lying in ambush.
Although this made the journey a bit longer, the strategy worked. He avoided nearly all hostile encounters.
After a fifteen-day journey, they were at their destination and The Tower of Joy finally came into view.
The once famous tower was now in ruins. Vines and weeds had grown all over the tower.
“Why are we here?” Slyvia asked with confusion. She could hardly see anything of value here.
“Be patient,” Jon replied.
He had no clear idea where his father’s treasure was hidden. Only the vague information from the mysterious being.
He entered the tower in search. Most of the rooms were empty.
On the first floor, he found a decayed wooden bed which crawling with maggots and termites. He stopped.
This… this was probably the bed where Lyanna Stark had given birth to him. Though Jon was not the original Jon Snow, and carried memories from another world, a deep emotion still welled up in his chest.
The duo searched the tower for several more minutes, but found nothing. Slyvia gave him a skeptical look, but said nothing.
Over the past month, she had begun to believe that Jon’s grand declaration about building an empire were not just empty boasts—but this? This felt pointless. What they were even searching for?
After spending a long time, searching every nook and crook of the tower, Jon stepped outside, wondering where to look next.
Then he remembered the voice that had brought him here. If the same entity had given him this clue, perhaps it would guide him again.
He closed his eyes. For a moment, nothing happened. But then, his heart thumped.
A strange sensation bloomed within him. A connection. A tugging but not with that entity. But through his blood.
Trusting the feeling, Jon followed the invisible pull. He walked behind the tower. After walking for about 200 meters, a grove came into his view. It was a small cluster of trees. Not more two dozen trees.
But in the centre stood something unexpected. Something, you would not expect to find this south in Westeros.
It was a weirwood tree.
