a/n: AU World.

I changed the Stark kids' ages:
Robb - 19
Jon - 19
Sansa - 17
Arya - 15
Bran - 13
Rickon - 10
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Fic Summary: Robb and Jon are forced to lock away their sisters come the full moon, but Arya was born to be free.

********Game/of/Thrones********
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Smile Of The Wolf:

One-shot:
Fire In My Heart

"Hurry!" Robb yelled as quickly lay his unconscious sister Sansa on the cement floor, and attaching a loose shackle around her throat that was connected to a thick chain and bolted securely to the wall.

"Come and help me!" Jon called, his voice strained as he struggled to handle his little sister.

Robb double-checked Sansa as the girl moaned in her unconscious state, before he left the—cell, there was no other word for it—and locked the gate, and then another heavy steel door. The boy ran to his brother, who was struggling on the stair with Arya.

Both boys could have easily over-powered a normal girl, but neither of their sisters were normal, because their family wasn't normal. Something infected the Stark Clan for generations going back hundreds of year, and none could pinpoint the exact cause or beginning of it.

Sansa was complient because even after all these years, she never knew that they drugged her dinner. After she fell asleep, they'd take her town to her cell. In the morning, before she regained consciousness, they'd carry her back to the bed. She didn't know what she truly was, the real reason why and how mother and father died, and why Bran and Rickon hadn't lived with them since she was thirteen.

"No! Let me go!" Arya screamed, struggling in Jon's grasped, and now Robb's. They got her down a few more steps, before she dug in her heels.

"Arya, stop fighting!" Jon snapped, yanking her down a step as the edge of it splintered under her stomp.

"Never!" Arya cried, and scratched at him, her sharpened nails biting through the material of his shirt, and drawing blood.

Jon hissed in pain, but didn't loosen his hold on his sister.

"You know this has to happen." Robb said.

"I don't want to go down there!" She protested.

"It's for your own safety." He said. "You know what happened to mother and father."

She turned into a statue in her brothers' grasp instantly at the mention of what happened to their parents. She glared at Robb, betrayal shining in her grey eyes. Robb tried not to feel guilt, but it was like a hot-knife in his gut; he made sure not a trace showed in his expression.

The boys started to inch her down the stairs while she was compliant. They almost made it to her cell next to Sansa's when her muscles clamped and her feet glued to the ground, jerking the boys to a halt. The growing moaning emitting from Sansa's cell seemed to spur her into motion.

"No!" Fury clouded the girl's face, and her narrowed grey eyes glowed amber for a second. "I'm never going back in there ever again!" she tore her arms from her brothers' grip, and when they made a move to grab her again, she went on the offensive. She struck out at them, first catching Robb in the side of the head with a closed fist, sending him reeling. She turned on Jon, he was more cautious now, but her anger made her even stronger than before, and when she saw the filled needle in his hand, she knew that she wanted to break his arm.

The dose wouldn't be enough to completely knock her out, unlike Sansa, with who they kept her sedated through the whole moon and transformation, Arya had been immune. This was due to the fact that the mutation in her blood was far stronger and potent than in her sister, and the sedative only caused her brief disorientation before her blood counteracted against it. But it would be long enough that they could get her into the cell, chain her, and lock her up before throwing away the key.

She growled low in her throat, daring him to try.

Jon didn't look happy about this, but he knew that it needed to be done; both for his sister's safety and anyone else she might encounter while transformed. Arya was more of a danger than Sansa because she knew everything. She knew that mother and father had both been killed because of what her and Sansa were. She knew that Bran and Rickon had to like with Uncle Benjen because it was too dangerous for them around the two sisters. And most of all, she knew that she and Sansa were Werewolves.

She knew the instant that he was going to make a move, her gaze could slice through the dimness of the cellar as if it were day, she saw the subtle bunch in the muscles in his hand when he clenched the needle, the jumping of his jaw muscles, the flicker of his eyes.

He moved, but she was quicker. He feinted to the left, before going right. She followed him. His left arms swung towards her, and she knocked it aside as if it was a pillow. A grimace crossed his expression at the hit, but they both knew that she was holding back. In the same motion he made for her with the needle in his other hand, she glimpsed it from the corner of her eye. Her arm came up, knocking his hand off course, the instrument flying from his grasp. She drew back a hand, intending to strike him similar to how she had Robb, who was still unconscious, and caught a glance of his left hand, and a second needle in his hand. She turned, trying to dodge the stab. It was a glancing blow. The pointed stabbed the flesh of her upper arm, and she hissed in pain as it was driven through to the other side. Jon tried to take the needle back, to use it again, but his thumb had already pushed on the plunger, the liquid shoot through her arm and harmlessly out the other side. She used the distraction to thump him upside the temple. His eyes fluttered, and he released the needle, falling to the ground, on the cusp of unconsciousness.

She turned and fled back up the stairs, but not before a regretful glance back, her sharp hearing picking up the whispered, "Be safe, little sister," from Jon before he passed-out, and she was in the open night, under the unhindered rays of the full moon.

She bathed in those beams for a second, her blood growing hot, before she ran into the woods at the back of the house. They were called the Wolfswood, rightly named for the animals that ruled it—the Stark Ladies. She knew these woods like any Queen should.

She made her way to a small cave that she had discovered when her first transformation came at the age of ten, and she'd escaped from the house. The change first occurs when a Stark girl flowers. Sansa changed when she was thirteen. Arya didn't bleed until she was twelve, but her transformation first occurred when she was ten.

Arya had been out playing with her little brother Bran, as was a common occurrence. They were out near the edge of Wolfswood when they found a dear carcass, its guts ripped from its belly and its blood stinking up the air. Then they heard the growl. Arya had just enough time to shove little Bran behind her, and stick her arm up in defence as the beast leapt out from a bush. Its maw latched onto her arm, its sharp fangs tearing into her flesh. She cried out in pain as it pinned her to the ground, trying to tear her arm off. Bran was screeching behind her. She tried to get it off her, her blood pouring from between it's clenched teeth. It's face was so close to her, that she looked straight into its amber eyes. And something happened, it looked back at her and she saw something flash in its eyes—fear. It instantly released her arm, its ears flat back against its skull, and backed off her in a submissive posture, before bolting back into Wolfswood, long gone by the time her father came running out, a rifle in his hands. That night, she came down with a fever. And as she lay fevered in bed, the full moon's beams shinning on her, the wolf's saliva running through her blood stream, she became what all the Stark female's become—a werewolf. She escaped without notice through the window, and frolicked through the Wolfswood. Her father searched the woods all night for her, in the morning he found her sleeping, naked as the day she was born, by the dear carcass that he had buried away from the house, dug up, and covered in mud and blood.

That had been the night that Arya had come to truly know herself. And there was no hiding anything from then on. Her father had theorized that it was the wolf's attack and bite that had caused her early transformation. And it had been that first night, that the beast inside her got it's first taste of freedom, only to be locked up for five years every time it came alive inside her on the full moon.

And tonight she was free. Free after five years. She tore the clothes from her body, her blood hot, her eyes glowing amber. The transformation from girl to wolf didn't hurt. She knew what was happening to her inside out, she was aware of every fibre in her being, unlike Sansa. This was the reason why Arya had much more control over what she was; because she knew what she was, and her transformation had been two year early.

She could feel it seep out of her every pore, leaking from the inside, out. She didn't fight, but let it overtake her. She howled at the moon, calling to it, telling all that she had finally arrived.

She was in control.

She was ready to rule her land like she was supposed to from the beginning. It was fate that that she-wolf had bitten her.

She was free,

and it was foretold of she who would be reunited with her Wolfswood.

-fini-

********Game/of/Thrones********

Note:
A Werewolf fic with the Starks just had to be done.

A couple of notes on some unresolved bits or that need more explaining, but didn't get a place in the fic:

*Ned and Catelyn Stark were killed by a Hunter who was trying to Kill Arya and Sansa because of what they are. Of course, Sansa was unconscious at this point, and it was Arya who had killed the Hunter, but was too late to save their parents.

*Robb and Jon found out about the family secret when they were fourteen, the night that Arya was bitten and her transformation triggered, but Bran and Rickon were out of the loop, as well as Sansa, who had yet to flower, her being only 12 at the time.

*When their parents were killed, when Sansa was 15, it became it became Robb and Jon's responsibility to see their sisters safely to their cells on the full moon. It was at this point that they had to send Bran and Rickon away to live with their uncle Benjen, but by this point Bran knows what's going on, but Rickon doesn't.

*Because of Arya's early change, she is stronger than Sansa. She can withstand the sedative that is moonly slipped in her sister's dinner.

*The she-wolf that bit Arya, let's just call her Nymeria! (who was never found, and is still out there)

*The wound that (Nymeria) gave Arya when she was ten, obviously healed when she transformed, but left a scar on her arm.

Thanks for reading!

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