Chapter Eight: Into the Woods

Thoros of Myr

Thoros smiled knowingly as Lord Beric reentered the Peach, a sour look on his battered features. A smile spread onto the Fire Priest. "I did warn you that it was pointless to try and stop the boy." He said cheekily as Lord Beric slid into the seat across from Thoros and grabbed the waiting cup of ale.

He looked tired and drawn, his hair messier than it usually was and his visible eye bloodshot with dark bags weighing it down. "She is more trouble than she is worth. He has things he should be focusing on, things that would benefit the Realm, and instead he demands to be allowed to search the woods, alone even, with the number of howls we hear each night." he bit out angrily after a moment of consideration.

Thoros merely laughed a full and joyful laugh, but behind it there was a bitterness that took hold of the scene like ice creeping in around them. "Leave them be about each other, Beric. Let them spend their time together. She is good for him." The fire priest's voice was gentle, his mind far away.

Lord Beric looked at the man as if he had grown a third head. Was he mad? Gendry skipped lessons because of this girl, argued when he said something that contradicted her say so, on any matter, and lead him into danger time and time again. She was horrible for the boy! He had a kingdom to consider, a future ruling, and she wouldn't even admit to being a Lady of the Realm, let alone Heiress of the North. Yes, Arya was a lovely and spirited girl who had characteristics that he admired dearly. Truthfully, he rather liked the girl, but Gendry loved the girl and that gave her more power over a King than a girl of ten and two needed.

"You are always so permissive with her Thoros. No matter what she does, from when you first presented her to me onward, you have had a soft spot for the girl." Lord Beric "Tell me, does she remind you of someone you remember fondly?"

Thoros laughed again, booming loudly in the large room. "Alas, I never met a woman or lass that was like the girl. Not even her Aunt was as wild and willful as she is. Nor as capable with a blade." Thoros chuckled again into his cup.

"She is too wild to be a Queen, Thoros. Can you imagine her attending court? He follows her like a pup and she will lead us straight to a bloody death for a child's need for justice."

Slightly glazed blue eyes turned to Beric with a sadness that had been absent then for some time. "She won't be Queen, though none will deserve the title more than her. She is a warrior Queen, who will die for us all." His voice was distant and his eyes had drifted to the fire in the hearth nearest them.

"You've seen her death then? That is why you wish them this time together?" Lord Beric asked, realization washing over him. He didn't wish the girl dead, and if that was her fate then he would be more permissive as well. These were hard times, and joy was rare and fleeting. Guilt rose in the pit of his stomach.

Thoros let his eyes leave the flames and turn back to his oldest friend. Grief colored his gaze and coated the air around him like a thick blanket. "I have seen her kill two Kings, and hand Gendry the crowns, dripping with blood still warm. I have seen her ride with wolves and decimate a battle field with only the beasts, not a man amongst her forces. I saw her stare down one of them, no fear in her being, just the need to save him."

"Is Gendry- is he-" Lord Beric asked, suddenly finding a thousand different correlations which could lead him to think so. He was a blacksmith, just the same. He had the blood of Kings and was more capable than one should be from his station in life.

"Azor Ahai? Aye, I believe he is my Lord." Thoros confirmed, drinking then from his glass. His body had grown heavy it seemed, as his limbs moved slowly with the nearly empty flagon.

Reading Thoros moves Lord Beric assumed the worst. "Arya is-"

"To be stabbed through the heart, yes. I have seen it in the fires."

Lord Beric felt bad for Thoros then, having to see the child die so painfully. He was frustrated with the girl and her childish antics but he would never wish her harmed. "The boy won't survive doing that too her. Not even for the people."

"He doesn't do it." Was the pained reply from the fire priest. He took a deep pull from his drink before looking almost bitterly back into the flames.

"He doesn't claim the burning sword but he is the Prince Promised?"

"He won't do it. She does it herself, to save him. To save us all."

xoxoxoxo

Gendry

He had left the Peach and an angry Lord Beric six hours past and still there was no sign of Arya anywhere. Admittedly, Gendry was not a skilled tracker or huntsman, those were not skills he'd ever needed before his adventures in the Realm, so it was also likely he had missed a trail or sign of her. His eyes looked up towards the canopy but the leaves we so thick that it was hard to tell how late in the day it was truly.

He felt like screaming, he felt like pulling his hair from atop his head. He felt like punching a tree until it fell over. Why did she torture him so? Why would she run away in the woods, filled with beasts and wild things alone? Why would she not speak with him? Look upon his face? She was cruel in her methods of vengeance he decided.

He knew why, and he knew that he only had himself, and maybe Lord Beric, to be angry with. He had left her. After he promised. She had accepted him as he was, bastard and penniless, with nothing to his name, and still she accepted him as family. And all she had asked was that they stay close to each other, look out for each other. A lot of good he had done in that area. He had left her and she had almost been captured by their worst enemy. He almost lost her to them all because he had listened to another instead of her.

He continued his search as he thought back to his time with the little girl. She had not yet steered him wrong. Anytime that she had taken charge of the situation she had seen them out of harm, albeit not always in the least violent or bloody way, but she had made sure he was safe. She was always looking out for himself and even Hot Pie when he had been traveling beside them. She had seen his station in life changed dramatically from bastard blacksmith sold to the Wall to now, a King. Maybe he wasn't a true King, he didn't live in a castle or have servants but what he did have was better than that. He had her.

He prayed silently then to any gods that would hear him, to help him find her. He had to find her and apologize. He had to tell her he was wrong and she'd been right, again. He had to endure her lording that over him for weeks, because that was what he deserved. Because if he couldn't find her, he deserved nothing but a swift death for betraying his only family.

xoxoxoxo

Small Council

"They say she killed twenty Lannister men in the Peach, single handed, with a tiny sword she took from the first man she killed. They say she ate some of them!" Joffery paced as he read the reports on the fearsome Arya Stark, who had still eluded capture by his family forces. He was a mess, obviously out of sorts and frantic at the news that the people were saying about the girl and her supposed rebel army.

Tywin pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that had built up behind his eyes. "She didn't kill twenty men in the Peach." He said sternly, purposefully dropping "your Grace". His aggravation with Cersei's eldest son was obvious on his features.

"Were you there, Grandfather, to give us a good count on how many of your men a little girl was actually capable of killing?" Joffery responded hatefully. He was wound tight, nerves firing feverishly, causing him to twitch unconsciously occasionally.

Tywin sat up to his full height and all around him he saw the counsel members squirm in their seats. "I am the one who commanded she be apprehended and, as such, all reports on that matter come directly to me. Just the same as the reports on Stannis, the other usurper I am fighting to protect your throne from while you sit in this tower being disrespectful and cowering because of a little girl."

Joffery looked ill at his grandfather's rebuttal. He was obviously fearful of the man but still wished to be treated as the King by him. That would not happen while he acted the way he was, throwing a temper tantrum. "If you know what happened then tell us now! What happened and should we be worried about this Stark attempting to reclaim the North?"

"Leave one wolf alive and none of the sheep are ever safe. She will always be a worry, a thorn in our side. It makes it that much worse she seems to be shaping up to be more of a trouble than her brother had been." Tyrion answered one question for his father. He knew as well as any of Tywin's children did that a Stark never backed down and never surrendered.

Lord Tywin took a sip from his goblet and rifled through some paperwork in front of him before he found the one he was searching for. He began to read from the report to the others in the room. "Six were sent to the ripest Peach in the woods to take the Wolf and none returned. Reports from witnesses say the the wolf had killed all of the men herself. She then tore off into the woods and celebrated with a thousand howling beasts. She emerged three days later from the forest, naked and riding on the back of a direwolf more fearsome than the one the Young Wolf had ridden on in battle."

"Her beast that attacked me!" Joffrey shivered, his voice trembling as he remembered the feeling of his arm in the mouth of the wolf, his blood pouring from the wound.

"Naked? Quite a scandal. Is she a witch, dancing naked beneath the moon with beasts and monsters?" Maester Pycelle added listlessly, his obvious distatest for the unladylike behaviors of the youngest Stark evident on his wrinkled features.

Tywin continued without acknowledging his grandson's or the old masters comments. "She rides with the Bastard Baratheon called the Bastard Knight and has been in his care sometime. Apparently, since she escaped the Red Keep." He gave his daughter a pointed look, and the Queen took another drink from her goblet. "They are both accompanied by the notorious Brothers Without Banners, which has grown to 300 strong, and are actively acting against Lannister law. We request reinforcements to deal with this significant threat to the crown." He finished reading and dropped the paper back to the table. He sat back in his seat and looked up at Joffrey with a bored and rather unpleasant expression.

"Well, we know that witnesses, especially peasants, sensationalize things to unrealistic degrees. How many men did she have with her at the Peach out of those 300?" Tyrion asked, trying to logically break down the tale to find the truth underneath. His youngest was definitely the most clever, or at least thought himself to be.

"None of them, apparently, even from intelligence reports, she was alone at the Peach when my men arrived." Tywin said as he passed the pile of papers to his least favorite child, allowing him to look them over.

"She's how old exactly? Ten?" Cersei's annoyed tone was calmer than her sons, though she was obviously worried as well, her hands messing with her wine glass restlessly.

"Twelve I believe this year, sister, based on my knowledge of her when we traveled to Winterfell." Tyrion said as he continued to breeze through the reports, openly paying more attention to the work at hand rather than the people surrounding him.

"How is she capable of defeating our soldiers?" Joffrey shouted, anxiety saturating his tone with high squeaks.

Tyrion laughed, a rich and rolling sound. "She defeated you when she was nine, didn't she nephew?"

"Through necessity she is able to kill. Any beast pushed into a corner can lash out with lucky snaps." Lord Tyrell said from his newly appointed seat.

Maester Pycelle nodded in agreement. "It is true that people are capable of extraordinary feet's in desperate times. But luck eventually runs out and inexperience wains to the more seasoned opponent."

Tywin Lannister chuckled. All eyes turned to the Hand, eyes wide. "Each of you, tell me what you know of this Stark girl." He indicated to the members of his council, already having spoken to Cersei and the King.

Lord Tyrell was closest to Tywin and assumed he was to answer first. Not wanting to disappoint the severe man to his left. "Truly I know little of the youngest of the Stark girls, only that she is wild as her late Aunt. Some say she is much more wild. The Northerners call it Wolf's blood I believe." He answered truthfully. The girl was still a child and this of little interest to Lords with children needing to be wed sooner than four years.

Tywin nodded, accepting the response, appreciating the fact the Lord did not waste his time dancing around the subject with things he had no idea on, and tucking away the phrase wolf blood. His cold green eyes, so like his twin children, turned to Lord Varys expectantly.

Varys looked around at the other members before taking a breath and adjusting himself slightly. "I must say Lord Hand, what I have heard of the girl is somewhat fanciful." he said in his airy voice.

"Go on."

"My little birds have whispered many things of the youngest Stark. They call her the Blood Child. Blood Wolf. She is supposed to be small, slight even for her years, but extremely deadly and skilled with a sword. Many say she died after the Red Wedding but Hell wouldn't receive her. Many say she is blessed by the Stranger, kissed by Death, to deliver justice to those that wronged her family. They say she has teeth sharper than they should be, and used them to rip out one of your scouts throats when he put his hands on her person." Tyrion's chuckle interrupted the Master of Whispers.

"It sounds as though she is her brother reborn. I assume she can transform into a wolf much the same he was said to be capable?" Tyrion smiled as he lifted his glass of wine and took a deep pull.

"Though it pains me to do so, I must say, I do agree with my brother on this. She is only a girl, not yet to even bleed." Cersei followed her brother and took a sip from her wine before returning it to the table and raising a brow skeptically at Varys.

"Indeed, it does seem hard to believe but there is more truth to these stories than the tales of Robb Stark. The number of bodies she has left behind is fact, not exaggeration." Varys replied.

"Varys is right about that. The girl is a tried killer. She killed three guards according to report, when she escaped Harrenhal, and another was never found. She is clever. She pretended to be common boy, then girl, and did very well, for a time." Tywin offered, dismissing both of his children's protest regarding the girl, before looking back to Varys, eyes like the lion of his sigil, sharp and focused. "What else have you heard?"

"That she has a pack of wolves that follows her through her travels. And that even though she is only a girl, the Bastard Knight is fully intent on marrying her. Some even say they are already betrothed." his eyes locked with Tywin's as he said his last piece, obviously looking for his reaction to the words.

"The Bastard King and his She Wolf Queen. Sounds delightful." Tyrion commented passingly.

"How are we even sure that this man is one of Robert's bastards?" Cersei spoke up from her father's right side, her green eyes locked on the rim of her goblet, anger burning brightly.

"The small folk tell tales of how he looks just as Robert did during the rebellion. A large man with eyes bluer than the sea and hair black as coals. He is supposed to be near six and ten and already taller than most men and strong as an ox." Maester Pycelle offered breathily.

"And a bastard still, not in any way capable of rallying the support of those common folk if he did not have the Stark with him." stated the Lord of Highgarden.

"I agree. There would be little support for him if his greatest alley and possible betrothed was taken from him. And that is what we're working toward." Tywin's voice held a command in it that told there was no discussion in the matter. "We will capture the girl and bring her here. He will come to save her, as his father attempted for his Stark girl before, and when he does he will die." Tywin's tone was easy, or as easy as it could be. He had hoped they wouldn't have any bastards to deal with but apparently anytime his daughter did anything she only did it half way.

"And how do you plan to capture this remarkable little girl who evades and bests your men?" came Cersei's soft voice, holding no edge. She had honeyed her voice just as her mother once had when she was sniping angrily but did not want to be seen as petty. Hiding behind their beauty.

He turned his gaze fully on her then, seeing something he had seen not that long ago in the scorched and melted walls of Harrenhal in the chilling eyes of a dirty Northern girl, cold defiance. "I had the pleasure of meeting Arya Stark. Did I mention that?" He began, tone steady as it always was. He sat back fully, resting his back against his chair, lightly gripping the arms. "She was going by some common name and had traveled with the Night's Watch, heading North before she had been captured by the Mountain's men and brought to Harrenhal with the rest. She had been disguised as a boy. All the simpletons surrounding me had boughten into her act, but I knew her for what she was. A scared and angry little girl. I made her my cup bearer and one day, I asked her what the North said about Robb Stark and she said they thought many silly things about the boy, but the silliest was they believed her could not be killed. I asked the girl if she thought that was true."

A small smile formed on his face then as he recalled the day. True, he perhaps should have guessed sooner as to who she was, and that was his fault. He also knew he would have to question Lord Baelish on how he did not recognize her there are Harrenhal when he had seen the girl a number of times enough to know her face. "She said to me, 'No my Lord, anyone can be killed.'"

A hush fell over the room as his words sank in on the wiser amongst him. His grandson was not included in that number, as he looked at Tywin with great animosity and perhaps disgust. "She had been there as your cup bearer and you let her escape?! And what does that ridiculous story have to do with how you intend to capture the blasted shrew?!" He screeched, his voice higher than he had intended.

The air seemed to become heavy in the small council chambers, as Tywin stared at Joffrey unmoving from his relaxed posture. "You misunderstand my father's tale nephew and do not see the reason he told us that about Arya Stark." Tyrion spoke up, attempting to clear the air.

Joffrey glared hatefully at the imp and spat, "Then enlighten me dear Uncle, what did the ridiculous story tell us of Arya Stark?"

"It means she understands what is at stake for her and her bastard boy, and will not take chances in losing the few people she has remaining. She is in the mentality one must be in to win war, and that is not something that is typical of the honorable North." Tyrion emphasized his point with a nod and took another drink of wine, savoring to relief the iced drink brought to his dry throat and mind. "This is kill or be killed your Grace. There will be no suing for peace, no buying surrender. She wants us all dead. And she will apparently do whatever it takes to see us that way. Including her own dirty work."

"Very good Tyrion. It also means that she has the ability to inspire those around her to do the same. She is of the birth for it and from my experience personally, extremely intelligent. She actually reminds me of how your mother once was, if I had not been there to curb her more masculine interests." Lord Tywin said, throwing a look at Cersei. "And you, daughter."

Cersei inhaled slowly and deeply, turning her eyes to her father's matching set. "Yes?" She asked cooly.

"As a woman on similar temperament and nobel standing, in this instance, what would you do?" He asked her seriously.

She was taken aback for a moment and then realized that he was not asking her as his daughter, merely needing insight into the mind of a woman, as he never had understood completely how they thought. She smiled, hiding the pain and self pity under the small pretty thing. It never reached her eyes though. "Father, Arya Stark was a wild beast when she left here. I could never presume to understand how such a savage would think."

"Think to when you were a twelve year old child and remember the anger you felt then." Tywin suddenly said and shocked the smile of Cersei's face. "Remember how angry you once were at how unfair the world is, that Jamie was allowed a sword, even Tyrion, but you never were? Remember that they received lessons on tracking and strategy while you had to go to dancing lessons and sew? How angry you had been then?" Tywin remembered the countless arguments with his daughter and each time she stomped away in her silk slippers, hiding in her room for days, until he would have her pulled from them and brought to dinner.

Cersei didn't smile again. Instead she glared openly at Tywin Lannister, sitting at the head of the tabel, the place that had been meant for her son. "If I had 300 men following me and a bastard bowing to my every whim?" She said acidly, allowing herself to feel the anger at her father and the injustice that this world afforded women like her, women of status. She was nothing but a broodmare, to be sold and traded. She was nothing to these men but a vessel in which their seed may grow. "I would burn the world down until I had what I wanted."

Twin smiled again and locked eyes with Joffrey, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned dear grandson. Always remember that, if nothing else. There is nothing this child will not do to see our reign ended. And as such, we must be of the same mindset. We must be willing to make things so unbearable for the surrounding people, who hide them from our men, that they will give up the group rather than suffer the consequences."

Tyrion interrupted then, "Is it wise to torture the small folk over this matter? They are only 300 strong. We are thousands."

"The people must pay for their treason! Hiding bandits and outlaws is a crime Lord Tyrion." Maester Pycelle puffed haughtily from his seat.

"Indeed, but those bandits and outlaws are protecting them from Lannister men and, from what tales I have heard, feeding them. She is gaining the love of the people and that is dangerous."

"Again, very good Tyrion. How would you solve that problem?" Tywin asked smoothly, pouring himself a glass of water.

"I would paint the Starks to be witches. There is nothing more feared by the common than witchcraft and heresy against the faith of the seven. Rather than a woman fighting to her country, paint her as a demon who wants to take over the kingdoms. No man can handle the idea of a woman taking their power from them."

"I think she is doing a good enough job of painting herself as a witch. Riding on the back of a direwolf." Came Cersei's sharp words. "You need to take the boy. That is who she fights for, not the dead family."

All eyes turned to her then, questioningly. "Go on sweet sister, tell me then what we should do?"

She looked at each man in front of her and wanted to shake her head at their blindness. "Look at the animal world, we can use a shewolf, protecting her pack. What does the she wolf do when another wolf threatens her mate?" she asked and then patiently waited a moment for their response. "She puts herself between them, by blocking her wolfs neck with her body. Bears. Mother bears are more dangerous than male bears, two to three times their size. Why is that?" She didn't wait for a response this time, locking eyes with her father then. "Because they are protecting the thing they love more. Perhaps not love, but it is within their very design to protect them and to see them survival. She doesn't care about her life. She doesn't care if she will live. She only cares that he does. Take the boy and you will have the girl easy enough."

xoxox

Gendry

He had searched through the night and finally stumbled upon her form, still and bare and cold. Her eyes were open and white as the clouds in the dimly lit morning sky, no familiar grey to be seen. Just the unbroken expanse of white, unseeing. He dropped to his knees beside her, thinking immediately the worst. He took his cloak and draped it over her, covering and trying to warm her blue tinged skin. "Arya! Arya, please!"

He heard the forest come to life around his as he clutched the tiny girl to him, trying to will her awake. He heard things running in the woods, large by their sound, but he couldn't look away from her face. The wind seemed to pick up all around him, chilling him to his very core. "Arya, please, Arya!" He said again, tears prickling in his eyes. He felt her then, moving slightly, breathing evenly. She was breathing. She was alive.

He sighed heavily and hugged her still form. Happy enough for the moment that she was indeed alive. Now he had to make sure that she stayed that way. He let his eye wander to the trees surrounding the two. All around him he heard paws connecting with the soft dirt, rustling dried dead leaves on the forest floor, stick snapped, popping in the early morning silence. Then he saw it, as it stepped forward from the trees. It stood right in front of him, a beast of a wolf, triple the size of any ordinary wolf. He knew who this had to be. This had to be the wolf that Arya lost so long ago, Nymeria.

He swallowed heavily, still holding Arya's tiny form in his arms protectively as all around him the rest appeared. They were much smaller, and even some had pups yipping and growling. He couldn't tell how many there were, he couldn't look away from the giant before him. It wa very rare that Gendry felt to be small, and standing before Nymeria, he felt it. "Nymeria, I am her friend." He said, quietly, calmly.

The wolf looked at him and turned it's head almost comically to the right and then the left. She looked like she understood him, not like she wanted to kill him. She approached, slowly, carefully, trying perhaps to not scare him. She let her head fall low as she walked toward him, smelling the air near the ground as she did so. Sooner than he would have liked she was right before, snout level with his face. He looked into the wolve eyes and saw recognition there. She whined lightly and let her cold nose brush his cheek lightly. He dared not breath in that moment. He was horrified. And the wolf must have known it.

The wolf then moved her attention to the girl in his arms. Gendry let his gaze follow the wolf's and let himself look at Arya again. The moment felt surreal, all these beasts around him but not attacking him. He could only think it was because of Nymeria. She held them back somehow. Perhaps this was her family now, just as he was Arya's. The girl still has eyes of white, looking as snow must, from how it had been described to him. He had never actually seen snow before in his life. Her skin was still pale but no longer held a blue tint, now just the color of the moon. She looked so fragile and so otherworldly like this. Her dark hair was ratted in snakes around her face and her full lips were parted slightly, as if she might have been trying to say something before whatever happened to her happened.

"Do you know what is wrong with her?" He whispered, helplessly to the wolf. It looked up at him again and he could have almost sworn that it nodded. His brow knitted in the way he knew Arya hated, and the wolf whined at the face. He tried not to laugh. Like mistress like wolf apparently. "Arya hates when I make that face too."

The wolf looked then back to Arya. She dropped her muzzle to the girls forehead and closed her great golden eyes. He felt it when it happened, whatever it was. It was as if the very air around him shifted. He could have sworn there were whispers all around, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Then the howls began, the great chorus that had been haunting him and the rest of the surrounding area each night. The sound from afar was enough to send shivers through even brave men, but here, amongst it, so loud and all encompassing, he felt horrified. He didn't take a breath the entire chorus.

And then she moved.

He looked down again from the wolves, howling all around him, the loudest being the direwolf right in front of them, and saw as she shifted, eyes still white, then she blinked. When her eyes opened again, the grey iris had returned. He smiled so brightly down at her he was sure his face would split. "You're back." He said, not knowing what else to say. Her eyes met his and he saw something in them that hadn't been there before. Flecks of gold seemed to be scattered in her steel eyes, like daisies sprouting from the snow.

She smiled at him then, the fire she had for him earlier in anger seemed to be gone, smoldered in their time apart. "I am, it would seem. And here you are." Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. She coughed to clear it but only time and water would help her truly. "What are you doing here Gendry?"

He stopped for a moment and remembered why he was out here in the early morning light holding her tightly to him. "I- I wanted to find you and tell you how sorry I am Arya." He looked down then, not meeting her gaze, unable to bear looking at her. "I betrayed you again, and for no reason other than lack of thought. I don't have anything Arya, except for you. You are all I have and I swear to you that I will always keep you safe from now on." He said seriously, his heart laid bare to her.

She did something she rarely did ever then, she giggled. "Be careful Gendry, if you make a vow in front of a Heart Tree, the Gods will strike you down if it isn't true in your heart." She made a move to stand then and he helped her find her feet. She held the borrowed cloak tightly at the neck, keeping it fastened against the crisp air.

He then looked behind her to see what she meant by a Heart Tree. The wood was white as her eyes had been minutes earlier, and the leaves like blood. "This is a Heart Tree then?" He asked as he also stood and made his way carefully before the massive tree.

"It is, though the one's from my home all had faces carved into them by the Children. It is so the Gods can see us through the trees." She said as she followed him to the tree, not seeming to mind all the wolves around them. Several began approaching Arya as she made her way to him and the great tree. They licked at her hand and brushed against her legs and side, like they had known her a while. She would let her fingers slide through their fur as she passed, gently stroking the thick furs.

When she stood beside him, he turned his body from the tree and to her fully. He reached out and took her hand in his, feeling both his and her callouses rub against each other sent a shiver down his back. "I promise you I will not let it happen again Arya. I am with you. I don't know the words I am supposed to say or vows I am supposed to make, but no matter what I will fight with you forever." He said seriously, this time meeting her eyes.

He saw her smile then, a pretty thing that was far more rare than he liked. "You can try." She said finally, squeezing his hand gently. He knew she didn't mean what she had said to be cruel, but she did not know a time when she was safe. Truthfully, he could not remember the last time that he was safe. But together, they would find a way, the two of them. Always.

A/N: Hey, so sorry for the long absence. I will try to me much more regular in updating. I am going away for a few days on a business trio, so hopefully I'll have time to write then. I want to say thank you for all of the lovely reviews and follows/favorites. They are truly appreciated and aide in this process. If anyone has anything they want to see emphasised or added please feel free to let me know.

Also, I hope the scene with the small council gives insight into what is coming in later chapters. There are some easter eggs hidden throughout this story. I try and emulate G.R.R. as far as the layering he seems to do within his work.

Thank you all again!