A/N: Thank you for all your responses to this story. Your enthusiasm fuels mine and I greatly appreciate it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones and make no money from the writing of this fiction.

Chapter 7

Before Arthur left on the small sailing vessel which the harbor master procured for him, he had sent a message to the palace for Ashara explaining his suspicions and that she tell Doran that he was on his way to waylay the children before they met with danger.

He and the owner of the small boat had sailed at breakneck speed all afternoon and into the evening, fortunate that the wind was in their favor. When they finally reached Blackwater Bay, it was dark. They hugged the shore as they moved silently, searching for Prince Trystane's boat.

Passing the city, Arthur couldn't help the memories that came flooding back. It had been a long time since he had stepped foot in King's Landing. Aerys was King back then. And since Rhaegar's death, he had vowed he'd never come to King's Landing again until Jon was ready to take his crown. But the present circumstances had forced him to break this vow.

As long as he remained at Starfall, Robert Baratheon did not care if Ser Arthur Dayne decided to go into seclusion instead of returning to swear fealty to him. Ned Stark had returned to King's Landing with Lyanna's body and told Robert that Ser Arthur was too injured to be of any further use to the crown. Though it was true at the time, it was no longer the case. Hard work and the determination to be Jon's protector had brought Ser Arthur back to peak condition.

But being Jon's protector was proving to be a challenge now that Jon was beginning to take his life in his own hands. The boy didn't quite understand the importance of who he was yet. That Jon would leave without telling him confirmed Arthur's suspicion that Jon was doing something he knew Arthur would greatly disapprove of. Yet, though this foolish and dangerous scheme made him angry, he couldn't help feeling secret pride that Jon took fate into his own hands and was able to inspire others to help him do it.

"There," Arthur pointed when he spotted the Prince's vessel. So, his suspicion was right – they were here in King's Landing. He wasn't happy about being right, however, far from it. "Pull alongside it," he commanded.

It wasn't long until Prince Trystane came out with his bow and arrow pointed at them. "I suggest you move on," he called out.

"I've been searching for you, my Prince," Arthur replied.

Trystane squinted in the dark, only the small torchlight from his ship illuminated the night. "Ser Arthur? How did you know?" he asked, baffled and lowering his bow.

"Just a hunch," Arthur replied. "Where are the others?"

Trystane sighed and said, "I'm sorry, but I cannot betray them."

"You do not need to betray them. I know where they've went," Arthur said before turning to the sailor. "Stay here with the Prince. If any strangers approach, sail further offshore. I'll signal you with a torch to approach again."

Arthur removed his boots and outer garments, bundling them up with his swords in his cloak. Holding the bundle over his head, he hopped off the boat and into the water. It was chest high and he carefully waded up and out of the water, quickly redressing himself once he was on the shore.

Then he stood and gazed up at the city walls, remembering all the secret ways in and out, ways he could avoid the notice of the guards. He knew this place well from his time as King's Guard and accompanying Rhaegar on all his escapades.

He pulled his cloak around him, covering his two swords and keeping his face turned at angles away from curious eyes. Dousing a few key torches, he moved unseen, knowing it would be a few minutes before the guards realized the torches were out. This was an old trick he learned, and it was still as effective as it had been back then. He wondered how Jon and the others managed to get in the city. Perhaps they were still trying to find a way in.

Arthur headed up the pathways and stairs that led to the hill of the Red Keep. He had the advantage over the children of knowing what side the dungeons were on and so he would wait for them there, if they hadn't already reached it. He carefully moved in the shadows, reaching a dark spot where he could observe the entrance to the dungeons without notice. There appeared to be only two guards on duty on either side of the door. A patrol, consisting of four guards, were circling the keep. Arthur knew it would take the patrol about 25 minutes to make one round.

He searched the darkness with his eyes and ears. He could detect no sign of Jon and the others having reached his spot. Arthur's eyes followed the warm glow coming from the windows of a tavern across the street. He hadn't eaten anything since that morning and his stomach growled in protest. It would be a good place to keep an eye on the dungeon door from across the street and get some food at the same time. Who knew how long it would take for Jon and the others to find their way here?

He entered the tavern, glad there was a free table by the window he needed, and sat. He ordered a bowl of hot stew and a warm loaf of bread with wine to wash it down. As he ate and kept watch, his eyes caught a shadow moving in a corner of the room, behind a barrel. He moved his head to the side a bit, noticing a young girl peeking around the barrel and ducking whenever the serving woman walked by. The girl appeared disheveled and hungry. Arthur guessed she was looking for scraps of food.

He remembered times past, when Rhaegar always seemed to attract a group of children following behind him whenever he went out into the streets of the city. They had loved the prince's generous nature as he most always entered a tavern with them in tow and called out, "Meals, meals for my friends!" He would give the proprietors a good amount of coin to feed hungry children.

Ashara was the same. She couldn't stand to see a child in need, fending for themselves on the streets. At Starfall, any child left parentless was taken under her care and grew to become a part of her loyal staff of servants.

His meanderings were cut short by the sound of a slap and the girl crying, "No, stop, please!" The serving woman had spotted the girl and was now beating her with her hand as the child cowered in the corner, trying to protect herself.

Arthur moved quickly, grabbing the wrist of the woman's arm in mid-strike. Her head turned quickly to Arthur, a look of anger and shock.

"Woman, you will not strike that child again," he hissed angrily.

"She's a thief! She's been coming around all week, stealing from the tables!"

Arthur threw her hand back towards her, making the woman stumble a bit. "She's my guest. Now, get her a bowl of stew and bring some more bread," he commanded.

The woman's face was puffed red with indignation, but she turned and went back to the kitchen. Arthur turned to the child in the corner and motioned with his hand. "Come, sit," he invited.

He sat back down in his seat and the girl cautiously moved toward the table, taking the bench across from him. He pushed his plate of bread toward her and nodded. "Go on," he invited.

She gazed at him with big eyes and then grabbed the loaf and hungrily gnawed on it. The woman returned with a bowl of stew and set it before the girl. The girl grabbed a spoon and began eating quickly, as if the bowl would be taken from her at any moment.

"Eat slower, child, you do not want a belly ache," Arthur said. "What is your name?"

"Ar…," she began, pausing a moment and searching his face, her eyes wide with caution. "Ari," she finished.

"Ari," he repeated, nodding. "Where are your parents, Ari?"

The girl looked about at the other patrons who were busy with their own conversations. Then she said, "My mother's far away and my father is…" She stopped herself, looking down at her food, face stricken.

Arthur could tell something bad must have happened to her father, leaving her to fend for herself. He didn't want to make her cry, so he didn't press on that topic.

"Where does your mother live?" he asked instead.

"In the north," Ari replied between bites.

"Would she be happy to see you?"

Ari nodded. "Yes."

"If I gave you coin enough to buy passage to White Harbor, would you be able to find your mother from there?"

Ari gazed at him a few moments as if assessing his offer. She glanced out the window toward the keep and then nodded, "Yes, I think so."

He took some coins and placed them by her bowl. She quickly grabbed them, making sure no one was watching the exchange, and tucked them into her tunic.

"You should leave tomorrow," he added. "This place is not safe for a child all alone. War is coming." He knew it wouldn't be long before Stannis or Renly attacked King's Landing, not to mention Ned Stark's eldest son. Word was the young wolf had called the banners when he heard his father was imprisoned.

She nodded and muttered a 'thank you'.

When the serving woman returned, Ser Arthur paid her and added, "Give her a bath and let her sleep by your hearth tonight."

OOOOOO

The five companions had situated themselves on various rooftops across the road from the Red Keep, observing the movements of the guards. The moon was high when they had finally found the right place - a door on the side of the keep guarded by two guards. Observing for the last hour, they had decided to wait until the deadest part of the night, about three hours before dawn, to carry out their plan. The guards would be at their sleepiest, and the city streets would be empty.

When the time was ripe, and the patrol circling the keep had just moved out of sight, they climbed off the roof they were on, and moved carefully in the shadows of a side alley. A small child stepped in their path and Obara hissed, "Go away!" The child ran off, scared.

"What if he tells someone?" Nymeria whispered.

"We are not harming children," Jon whispered back. "Let's carry out our plan and we'll be gone soon enough."

They all turned to Tyene. It was decided earlier that her poison thorns were the quickest way to proceed. But now that the time came, the reality of what they were about to do hit them. The poison would kill.

"Are you certain you want to do this?" Jon asked.

Tyene straightened her shoulders and said, "Of course."

Jon glanced at Harran who met his gaze with an unsure one of his own. Jon had to remind himself that if these same guards knew a Targaryen was standing before them, they would try to kill him. Therefore, they were the enemy, weren't they?

Jon nodded at Tyene and said, "Good luck."

Tyene moved quietly along the wall of the keep. The guards were leaning against the wall on either side of the door, appearing to doze off. It must have been the hardest shift of the day, trying to stay awake during the dead of the night. When she was about twenty feet away, she blew her first thorn, hitting the guard on the side of his face. He slapped his face, thinking he had been bitten by an insect, before he fell to his knees, grabbing at his throat while wheezing.

The other guard turned to him and said, "What's this?" Tyene blew her second thorn at that moment, hitting the second guard on the chin. Then she pressed herself against the wall and watched as they writhed on the ground, trying to find a breath. The others came then, watching the men die. It wasn't as gratifying as they had thought it would be.

Jon looked for only a moment before kneeling next to the guards, reaching for the ring of keys one of them wore on his belt. He avoided looking at the red, puffy face of the dying man. Harran had already stuck two of their spears in the ground next to the wall. When Jon had the keys, they all helped lift the dead men so that the spears held them up under the backs of their shirts. This way, the patrol would still see two sleepy guards outside the door to the dungeons when they next passed.

"Hurry," Obara whispered, as Jon was trying various keys on the lock. The patrol would soon be back around to this area and they needed to be inside.

When the door clicked open, Harran stepped in first, bow ready. Nymeria had grabbed a torch from outside and followed him. No one was in the corridor this time of night, which was a stroke of luck for them. They all entered and shut the door behind them.

Jon made the quiet signal and they began peering through the peek holes of the dungeon doors. The cells were dark and there was no way to tell if they had a prisoner in them without entering with a torch. Jon began unlocking them as everyone waiting impatiently and Harran kept his arrow notched for trouble.

The first two contained half-dead men, chained to the wall and unable to rouse themselves when Jon passed the torchlight over them. They did not look like the Lord Stark he remembered. In the third cell he entered, however, a man sat slumped against the cold stone wall in chains, light shaggy hair fell forward over his features.

Jon moved tentatively closer with the torch and the man raised his face, squinting in the firelight.

"Lord Stark?" Jon said.

"What do you want?" he asked. Then he noticed the two Dornish girls behind Jon and a third at the door, keeping watch. He sat up straighter.

"Jon?" Ned Stark said, appearing perplexed. "How are you here?"

"We've come to rescue you," Jon said, handing the torch to Obara and kneeling next to Ned, trying the keys on his chains.

Ned studied Jon's face, realizing it was really him. "Why? Why would you do something so dangerous?"

Jon's eyes rose to meet Ned's. "For the mother I love, and for the mother I never knew."

Ned sucked in a breath. "You know?"

Jon nodded. "Yes, I know."

"You shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous. Where is Ser Arthur?"

The chains fell off as Jon found the right key and he stood, holding a hand out to Ned to help him stand. "Probably not very happy with me at the moment," Jon replied. "But I couldn't leave your fate to the Lannisters. We must hurry."

They entered the corridor and Harran handed Ned a cloak. "Put this on, Lord Stark. We cannot have them recognize you on the street." Ned slipped it on and put the hood up while they hurried to the outside door. Harran held his hand up, halting the group while he carefully opened the door a crack, peeking to see if the patrol was on this side of the keep.

They waited, listening for sounds of people outside. It was dead quiet, and Harran signaled them to follow. Once they were all outside the door, they met with a most grisly sight of dead bodies, severed heads and much blood. Standing in the middle of it all stood a hooded man, holding two swords crossed over his chest, blood dripping down the blades onto his hands.

Jon knew those swords, and that stance. "Uncle?" he said, incredulously, "What have you done?"

"You were in danger, so I did my duty. This is who I am," Ser Arthur spoke, more serious than Jon had ever known him to be.

Kingsguard. The word went unspoken, but Jon and Ned knew exactly what Ser Arthur was alluding to.

It was Ned who finally roused them out of their shock. "We must hide the bodies. Put them inside the door."

They all helped drag the remains of the patrol through the dungeon door, before closing it and hurrying off to a dark side alley. Jon halted the group and said to Ned, "We have a boat waiting outside the city."

"I cannot leave without my daughters," Ned spoke.

They all stared at him a moment. They hadn't planned on this at all. "We must leave before dawn," Tyene reminded. "They will see the boat if we don't leave before it's light."

"Jon, this is your venture. Decide the next step," Ser Arthur spoke. This was the leadership role he'd been grooming Jon for his whole life. A role in which he would have to decide whether he'd take risks with the lives of others and accept the consequences.

Jon gazed about the group and then at Arthur and said, "Lord Stark is right. We cannot leave his daughters." They would be Jon's kin, too, and he was intent on taking care of the only family he had left. Surprisingly, Arthur seemed to understand Jon's reasoning as he gave a nod of agreement. Or perhaps he was just obeying. Jon wasn't sure which.

"Where are they, Lord Stark? We have less than two hours before dawn," Arthur stated.

"Lord Varys told me they moved Sansa to the Red Keep. And Arya… I know not. No one can find her. She must be hiding in the city," Ned replied.

"Arya, you say?" Arthur said. "I met a child who looked about ten summers old, brown hair, who called herself Ari."

Ned stepped forward. "Where was she?"

"The tavern up the street. She should still be there sleeping by the hearth," Arthur replied.

Ned began to move onto the street, but Ser Arthur pulled his arm back. "Wait, you cannot go. You are too well known in this city. We will get her. Tyene will take you back to the boat and you must wait for us to return with your daughters."

"How will you get Sansa without being detected?" Ned asked. "There will be guards to deal with in the Red Keep."

"You forget that I use to live in the keep, Lord Stark, and following Prince Rhaegar about I know all the secret ways in and out," Ser Arthur replied. "I will find her."

"I will go with you," Jon said.

"No," Arthur replied. "It is easier for me to slip in unnoticed alone. The rest of you will get Arya and bring her to the boat. Go in through the back of the tavern where the kitchen is. She should be there by the fire. Don't make noise and get caught."

Ned clasped Ser Arthur's arm. "I don't know how to thank you for this risk you take."

"Jon will not leave without her and I will not leave without Jon," Arthur replied.

Jon stepped forward. "Be careful, uncle," he said, with concern. "If you get caught, I will have to come after you."

Arthur tilted his head, knowing Jon meant every word. Jon loved him like a father and Arthur loved him like a son. None of that had to be said. It was plain. "May the Gods be with us," Arthur said, turning on his heel and disappearing into the night.

OOOOO

A/N: Ned is free, but will he have his daughters back? You'll find out next time. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know your thoughts. Until next time…