You read my mind. One Year Later:

Jon stalked the halls of the Red Keep. The Citadel had said that winter was coming, and Jon knew that as well as anyone could, yet King's Landing didn't seem to take note. Temperatures were rising, metaphorically and literally. In this sweltering heat, people were beginning to lose their minds. Jon knew that his father was investigating something big. Eddard had admitted that there was a conspiracy afoot in the city that threatened to bring down everything, and had likely lead to the **** of his foster father and predecessor (or pre-decease-or if things went belly-up).

Jon had learned much in the past year. He was good enough now to keep even the Kingslayer on his toes. Jon had come to respect Jaime, if not like him. He had his own sort of code, and consistently placed his family first. He seemed to genuinely care for Tyrion, for his sister, and for his sister's children. In truth, without Jaime, Jon thought, there would be no House Lannister. He was the glue that held it together, in a way, though he did not realize it. Jaime, Jon had come to understand, had a peculiar way of looking at the world, and at his family. He had grown up largely without his mother, and his father was cruel. Jaime reacted to this by trying to please everyone, and when that didn't work, he chose to mock those he couldn't please. It seemed to work for him, but it was a fragile way of living. Jon wished that Jaime could come to take pride in the better parts of his nature, rather than seeking love from others.

It was well that Jaime didn't have much more to teach Jon, though, as Jon couldn't stand the days when the Prince came to the training ring. It was like dueling Robb again - only Robb was a quick learner, clever, and kind. Not since they were children had Robb ever mocked Jon's station, and even then Jon suspected it had been accidental.

Joffrey, however, was a menace. Weak, angry, and stupid was a terrible combination. Whenever Joffrey arrived, Jon asked for permission to go study with the Maester or attend his father. Jaime always obliged him that. Everyone had their reasons, Jon had learned.

When the Tourney of the Hand had arrived, Jon took part in the melee. He wouldn't have done well in the joust, but shone in the melee. When only he and Thoros of Myr were left, Jon had no fear. Tired as he was, he knew that Thoros was more sound than fury, more bark than bite. After a grueling final duel, he accepted the foreigner's surrender.

He heard later of the problems with the jousting final. The Mountain had made a mockery of his knighthood. Had he killed the Tyrell boy, he would have been dead of poison in a week, Jon mused. Still, everyone else was suitably distracted, and Jon managed to steal a whole afternoon with his sister, Arya. They hadn't had nearly enough time to themselves, but Arya had recently discovered a series of secret passageways and chambers, and now they met in them whenever they could.

Their favorite meeting spot was in an old abandoned room, which was littered in old furniture, as well as the remains of the dragons. Jon knew he was to receive a large purse for his victory in the melee, but he was more interested in the reward Arya had promised him.