A chance encounter

Foiling the Queen of Thorns had the unexpected benefit of leaving Highgarden bereft of its Lord, his favoured son and a good majority of the Tyrell men save for the cripple Willas and of course Loras, who was already in Jon's thrall. There was a sense of freedom given to Jon now that his movements were not followed so closely. He took the time to explore not only the ancient Tyrell castle, but also several of the nearby settlements with his loyal guards. The Reach was truly prosperous in a way few other places in Westeros were, and Jon found that it was reflected even in the small villages and on the faces of the commonfolk who lived there, all of whom seemed to go about their lives in quiet happiness in the warm and beautiful lands full of bounty.

Jon drank the sight of it in as he and his guards rode through one of the nearby villages, thinking of how different it all seemed from the grotty hovels that seemed to encircle King's Landing and how he could actually smell air that was devoid of the stink of shit for once. He traversed for much of the day before finally deciding to enter into one of the nearby taverns, silently thankful that he had thought to dress down in a hood and cloak to hide his nobility. His Stark features also helped mask his status as a royal and as he entered into the small establishment with his similarly disguised guards his appearance garnered no more than a passing nod; the locals thinking him nothing more than a traveller from north.

He went straight to the Innkeep and ordered a tankard of ale for himself and his men, and accepted the kindly old man's offer for bread and stew. He left enough silver stags to be generous, but not so much that offsiders would think of him as a potential target for robbery. The food and drink was good, and as he consumed it Jon felt the last of his worries slip away to the far recesses of his mind as he enjoyed the atmosphere.

Eventually the drink got to him, and Jon excused himself and went around to the tavern's stables to relieve himself. He was still fumbling with his breeches when he heard a shriek followed by a string of curses coming from within the stables and did not hesitate to rush to the source of the commotion. The ruckus was caused by a particularly fat man putting his heavy hands up in a threatening motion towards an old woman, clear panic write across her face. Judging by her dusky skin and the string of slurs that escaped from the man's gap-toothed mouth, the woman was a foreigner, perhaps one of the many Essosi travellers who moved about looking to sell their exotic wares to the odd Westerosi who had the coin to buy them.

"What in the name of the gods is going on here?" Jon growled, approaching with more than a little inebriation fuelling his actions. "What kind of man raises his hands to an old woman?"

The man scowled his chubby face. "A man who has been robbed by this foreign bitch!" he grabbed the woman's graying dark hair roughly, "she sold me a fake charm that would help me win at dice!

Jon watched as the woman whimpered as her attacker shook her head roughly. He reached into his cloak and took out a small sack of silver stags and tossed it at the man's feet. "Whatever you paid, I am sure that more than covers it, now release her and get out of my sight."

The fat man's beady eyes narrowed in caution, but his greed won over and after scooping up the coin, he tossed the woman aside and hurried from the stables like the hungry pig he was. Jon watched him go with a frown, but quickly turned his attention to the fallen woman and helped her up. "Are you alright my lady?"

"Thank you," she breathed, her accent thick and exotic from somewhere he couldn't quite place. "you have saved my life...thank you."

Jon gave her a small smile. " I'm just sorry that you had to meet a cretin like that, I promise you not all of us Westerosi are so brutish."

The woman looked deeply into his eyes for a moment, her hand never letting go of his. Her mind appeared in distant thought before she finally nodded to herself, as if deciding something then and there. "You are a good man...and a good men should be rewarded," she dug into her skirts and produced a vial of a deep purple substance, "if you'll let me, I can give you something truly remarkable."

"Please, that's not..."

A small needle appeared in her hands, and in one smooth motion she pricked the end of one of Jon's fingers, causing him to snatch his hand away in pain. She paid no heed to his complaint however, and added the bloody needle into the strange vial, swirling it about for a moment and chanting something under her breath. She sealed the vial again and handed it to him.

"However drinks this," she told him gravely, "no matter who or what they are...will be changed, driven to become your perfect partner. You will find the results unlike anything that this land's gods could hope to give.."

She pressed the vial into Jon's hand, bowed low, and then went on her way, seemingly dissolving into the evening shadows. Jon stood, utterly confused, looking at the small vial in his hands. He hummed to himself, pocketed the object and returned to his men, decided that he would return to feast at Highgarden.