'I thought I told them not to disturb me,' Jon thought with a frown on his face, but he came out of the deep warging state nonetheless.
After telling Frost to make her way back to him before sunset, Jon stood up from his bed and walked to the door where the knocking had gotten a bit urgent by now.
"What happened?" He asked curiously as he opened the door, only to see Bran, the commander's son, standing there with a weird expression, "Did we reach Braavos, already?"
"No, not yet," he replied while shaking his head, still maintaining that strange but excited expression on his face, "But we can already see the shore from the deck, so they are calling for you."
"That's it?" he asked exasperatedly as he came out of his room, "Is this the first time you all came to Braavos? Did you all get too excited after seeing the Titans in all their glory?" he asked with a snort as the young boy, who was actually older than Jon, led him towards the deck.
"No... we have been to Braavos before," he replied slowly while leading him up towards the deck, "It is just that, we have never been on the receiving end of such an... enthusiastic reception before,"
"Huh? What enthu—" Jon's question abruptly got caught in his throat as he finally caught sight of the reception his friend was talking about.
There, standing on the deck, in front of him were almost all of the crew, including Gared, Oberyn and The Advisor, who stood at the very forefront.
And without exception, every single one of them had their eyes glued towards the port in the distance, where a sea of men, women and children were looking excitedly towards their fleet of ships as if they were awaiting the arrival of Aegon the Conqueror.
"How did they even know?" Jon mumbled as he came to stand beside Oberyn, who was closely monitoring the excitement on the coast through a far-eye.
"Well, what else did you expect?' Gared answered with a somewhat nervous glance at the crowd that was large enough to completely swallow his completely of sellswords, "We did let quite a few of those pirates escape to other islands in Stepstones during the night attack, and not to mention our brief stay at Tyrosh to sell those 'excess' pirate ships... the news was bound to spread sooner or later,"
"No, I am not talking about that," Jon replied while shaking his head, "I am just curious about how these people even knew that our ships were going to arrive on this exact day..."
"Oh, I know who you can blame for that," Oberyn quipped with an amused look in his eyes as he took off the far-eye and handed it over to Jon, "Look at the very front. You will find your fat friend smushed in between some guards,"
"What?" Jon asked reflexively as he hurriedly put the far-eye on to look in at the shore, and sure enough, his friend, Samwell Tarly, was standing there at the very edge of the port looking nervously at the crowd around him as if he was expecting them to jump at him at any moment.
Thankfully, he also caught sight of Darrio the Banker, his puppet in the Iron Bank, standing beside him, which meant that the guards, in the protective sphere around them, were called by him.
It only took a single look at his friend's face for Jon to know that Oberyn's hypothesis was probably correct and that Sam was the leak of their fleet's arrival time.
Even though his friend from Westeros had slimmed down after months of training, had grown taller, and become muscular enough to pass for a Mercenary, the improvements were all physical, and on the inside, he was still very much a pushover.
In fact, Jon could easily imagine the scene of a forceful merchant slowly extracting the information out of his friend through sweet talk, coercion, and false promises.
And it would not have taken too long for the information to spread from there, because one can hardly expect a Merchant to keep his mouth shut and not profit from a secret.
"But still, this is too much, isn't it?" Gared muttered while pointing at the massive turnout of people at the port. "Why are so many people willing to waste their time standing in the sun just to see us? It is not like we will be handing out free money... Do these people not have anything better to do?"
"They probably don't," Jon muttered with a wry smile, as he knew how entertainment-starved the small folk in this world were.
"You should look at it from their perspective," Oberyn added with a thinking expression on his face, "They must have all been very shocked when they first learned that their mighty fleet of Braavosi warships were not only attacked but also fled in defeat from pirates, and then to add to their humiliation, they then learned that instead of taking revenge themselves, all the Iron Bank was going to do was to put up a bounty on him, and hope that someone kills him, silently admitting that they would not be able to locate, and defeat this cruel Pirate King and his crew,"
"But then came the news that Jon Snow," he exclaimed while exaggeratedly patting Jon's shoulder with a smirk, "the famous captain from Westeros, who had already been the talk of the town because of his shipping company, had not only managed to kill the Pirate King but also completely wiped out his fleet, making the ocean a much safer place for everyone,"
"That's a bit of an exaggeration..." Jon muttered, but Oberyn ignored him and continued.
"Now, imagine these tales spreading through the local taverns and brothels for days with each retelling adding a bit of embellishment to the stories," he said with an animated expression on his face, "So, of course, these people would be excited to see the mysterious man from Westeros and his heroic crew who had vanquished the evil Pirate King,"
"Ah," Gared nodded with a look of comprehension, "Then, their excitement makes a bit more sense..."
"Alas, I would not be able to join in the festivities," Oberyn mumbled with a disappointed sigh.
"Huh? What?" Gared asked with a confused expression as the sound of the crowd was starting to reach them by now, making it hard for him to hear Oberyn.
"Nothing," he replied while shaking his head before turning towards his friend from the North, "Jon, can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Huh? Sure," Jon nodded distractedly, before taking the far-eye off of his eye and following the Dornish prince towards a quiet corner.
"What's wrong? Something happened?"
"Nothing's wrong," Oberyn replied while looking at Jon with a rueful smile on his face, "I just wanted to tell you... that it is time for us to part ways."
Jon looked confused for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding, and he turned towards the bustling with a complicated look on his face, "Because of them,"
"Hm," Oberyn nodded in confirmation, "You have been able to keep under the radar until now somehow, but I do not think that would be viable any longer... In fact, I can bet you that there are more than a couple of Varys' little birds mingling among the crowd out there, just waiting to catch a glimpse of you and report on all your actions,"
"You're most probably right about that," Jon conceded with a sigh, 'And not to mention the others,' he thought as the images of all the various cunning nobles from Westeros appeared in his mind.
"And we do not want our connections to be known 'publicly', if we want to go through with the plan that you told me about,"
"Oh, so you believe in my ability now," Jon asked with a raised eyebrow.
"It is hard not to," Oberyn shrugged helplessly as if it was completely out of his control, "You had sounded like a mad-man when you told me that you could get us into the Westerlands, kill Tywin Lannister's dogs and then quietly get us out, with the Lannisters and their lackeys none the wiser,"
"And now..."
"Now? Well, now that I have watched you do the things, that you did in Stepstones," he replied with a reminiscing expression on his face, "I believe there are very few things in the world, that I would not think you capable of accomplishing," he praised without a hint of exaggeration, "So now that I know your plan is feasible, I think it is high time for me to head home, and prepare for our journey into the lion's den so that I will be ready when you come to pick me up,"
"And how exactly do you intend to 'prepare'?"
"Oh, you know the usual," Oberyn replied as he rotated the kinks out of his shoulder, "Some exercises here and there, some training bouts with my brother's guard, a couple of bandit extermination, and of course, plenty of meat, that should be enough to get my strength and stamina back up to my peak,"
"Ah, you don't need to worry that much. Because if you get tired and your joints give up halfway through, then I will be there to pick up the slack after you, old man," Jon teased with an innocent smile on his face.
Oberyn snorted disdainfully at that, "You may be younger than me, boy, but I bet I can still run circles around you."
"Yes, yes, sure you can," Jon replied sarcastically.
"Do you want to bet on it?" Oberyn asked with a challenging gleam in his eyes, "After all, we still have not had a proper fight between us."
"Did we not?" Jon asked with a raised eyebrow, "Because if I remember correctly, then—"
"A proper one," Oberyn interrupted forcefully, "Without you using your bow or any kind of poison," he said, not a hint of embarrassment on his face.
"Sure, I can give you as many handicaps as you want," he said in a magnanimous tone, that irritated the Dornish prince like nothing else.
"Ugh, I can not wait to wipe that cocky smirk off of your face," he said, now more than sufficiently motivated to train his hardest for their future match.
"I will look forward to it," he said smugly, still not letting off his provocations, "Oh, and before I forget," Jon said as he suddenly remembered something and began rummaging through his pockets before he pulled out a folded piece of parchment, "Take this,"
"Huh? What is this?" Oberyn asked while opening the paper, only to see a list consisting of various dos and don'ts.
1. Avoid Rich meats and Seafood such as...
2. Increase intake of green vegetables and fruits(such as figs, dates, and citrus fruits) and...
3. Drink Turmeric or Ginger tea daily...
4. Limit alcohol consumption, especially sweet wine and...
...
"Your brother is suffering from Gout, right?" Jon asked, and Oberyn nodded with a confused look on his face, "Well, this here is a cure that I remember reading in an old book in the Winterfell library years ago, so I had someone send it to me."
That was, of course, not true, as there was no such book in Winterfel,l but that was the best excuse Jon could come up with.
The actual source of this so-called cure was a medical webnovel that Jon had read in his previous life, and he vaguely remembered the protagonist mentioning something about Gout not being an incurable disease and that it could be brought under control just through some dietary changes.
While he was not sure if this cure would work as well as it had in the novel, where it let a man run a marathon after just a few months of it, he could at least be sure that it would only result in positive changes.
"And you think that this 'cure' would actually work when even the best Maesters from Citadel were not able to do anything?"
"As I said, this is an ancient remedy... meaning that it would not have been written down if it did not actually work,"
"If you say so," Oberyn replied, still looking a bit sceptical but he put the parchment in his pocket nonetheless, "Well, if nothing else, these remedies at least don't look that hard to implement... except for the spicy food part, because like any other proper Dornish man, my brother is very fond of his spices and to have him abstain from it would be very hard,"
"Oh, I am sure you can persuade him with your wiles,"
"Yes, yes, I am a very cunning man with all kinds of schemes, and you are just the epitome of innocence," Oberyn replied, rolling his eyes.
"I am glad you finally accepted the truth," Jon said, nodding his head sagely.
Oberyn gave Jon the stinky eye before wryly shaking his head, "Farewell then, Jon Snow," he said, raising his right hand, "Hopefully, I will see you soon."
"You are leaving already?" he asked confusedly, as he shook the hand of his only friend from the opposite side of Westeros.
"Yes. I will take Obara and sneak away on a smaller boat. After all, I do not want to come between you and the crowd's adulations for you," he said with a small smile before turning around and calling for his daughter, who was standing at the front conversing with Bran, "Obara! Come here,"
'I will miss him," Jon thought with a forlorn look on his face as he looked at the back of the Dornish prince.
There were very few people in this world who were as fun to be around as the Red Viper, and with him gone, life would go back to being about all work and dull, boring days at sea.
A few seconds later, Jon shook off his despondence and turned towards the port with a revived look on his face, 'Let us see what these people have in store for me,' he thought as their ships slowly approached the shore.
///