When Jon had been a boy he'd touched a lantern that was scalding hot, nearly burned all the skin off his hand. Meister Luwin had to apply healing salve and wrap his hand for a month. Some nights Jon still opened and closed his fists to loose the tension from the old wound. Tenanyes face had a similar burn from the mere touch of common iron to her cheek. Jon understood now how dangerous the metal was too her, and how it was able to restrain her the way it did. He couldn't imagine living with such a affliction. Then again he couldn't imagine living with the power she had either.
"We have won."
Jon nodded softly as the crowd bellowed their approval of the match. For the first time since arriving at the Fighting pits Jon hadn't left any of his opponents alive. In truth he had little choice but it didn't make him feel much better for it. It disgusted him that he was killing people for others amusement. While he knew he only fought to keep himself alive the fact that these people cheered and booed and drank and ate while men died before them was sickening. Jon scanned the crowd until his eyes fell on a high seat, far on one end of the arena. He'd never really had the chance to look closely at it and at this distance he could barely make out much more than two figures, a man and a woman. Jon tossed his bloody weapons in the sand and turned to Tenanye.
"That we have, for today. There will be more tomorrow. C'mon."
With that the two exited the arena and descended back into the bowels of the pits whee the fighters were housed. A pair of healers approached the two of them, gave them both a cursory glance before ordering them both to take seats while they patched them up enough to fight for the next day. They set to cleaning and wrapping Jon's gut while the offered salve to Tenanye. As they were seen by the healers Jon noticed the same two guards that had approached him earlier head towards Jack. Jon had a bad feeling in the pit of his gut at the sight.