AN: Warning for attempted rape in this chapter and canon typical violence. Other than that, enjoy!

It was late in the afternoon when he heard the shouts.

After a short lunch, he had ridden on down the kingsroad, putting the thoughts of greenseers and wargs in the back of his mind to ponder another time. He had been plodding along the road for a good amount of time when he heard the noise.

Cautiously, he brought his horse to a stop, listening for signs of another. When another round of screams came, he dismounted, hand going for the sword at his belt. It sounded like a woman's screams. And accompanying those, to his revolt, was laughter. Sick, raunchy laughter.

"Oh hold still, s'not nearly as fun with you squirmin'," he heard a man's voice say. Rounding the bend in the road, Jon crouched behind some bushes and peered through the leaves to get a view of the scene before him.

His stomach turned uncomfortably when he recognized what he saw. Three men had surrounded a young girl who couldn't have been much older than Sansa. Two of them were keeping her pinned down while the third was grabbing at his cock, in an obvious attempt at raping her.

Anger flared in Jon at the sight, his heart pounding in his rib cage like a war drum.

"Please don't, I beg you!" The girl cried, voice high and wet with tears.

"Did ya 'ear that lads?" The man with his cock out sneered as he got himself ready to mount her. "This cunt thinks we'll listen. Almos' funny in'it?" The other two men laughed with him, the sound just as ugly as their behavior. That was when Jon snapped, unable to just sit and strategize anymore.

"Hey!" He called, standing up and unsheathing his blade. The sound of steel rang through the air almost musically, making the men stop and look. Mustering up as much strength as he could, he addressed the rapers. "He heard the lady, now stop it."

His words though, however impressive, just made the three burst into gaudy laughter.

"The lad thinks he's a knight," one of them coughed out. "Little far from yer castle, are we?" He taunted. Jon scowled in return, gripping his sword tighter in his hand.

"Go on boy, leave us," the apparent leader said, smirking. "This isn't worth spilling your blood over."

"But it's worth spilling hers?" He remarked haughtily, pointing his sword at the young girl. She flinched at the gesture, causing him to give her a sympathetic look before turning back to her attackers. "Now I'll ask you one more time, leave. Now."

It was evident they didn't take his threat seriously. Jon almost didn't as well, but he knew Ghost was close behind him, somewhere in the bushes. And Jon had grown up learning swordplay from an anointed knight. The most training these men had seen would at best be whenever they got into drunken brawls at the odd tavern or inn. He had nothing to fear from them.

"Fine," the other man said. "Your mistake."

The men drew their weapons, Jon tightening his grip on his own. Casting a quick glance to the girl still on the ground, he nodded to her for her to take the chance to run. He hoped she understood because his attention was soon back on the three men now making their way towards him.

"Let's make this quick," the man said with a sneer.

"Agreed," Jon said, then charged.

The sound of steel on iron clanged in the air as Jon's weapon met theirs. It was quickly followed by his own side step and parry before blocking one of the axes. They were large and obviously strong. But Jon was quick, and he used that to his advantage.

Ducking under a blow, he hit his cross guard against one of their noses, the sound of bone breaking soon followed by shouts and swearing.

He had to dodge another blow after that, side-stepping before regaining his balance and swinging at the attacker. He felt steel meet flesh and watched as blood spurted from the man's leg. It wasn't fatal, but it would still hurt something awful.

By now, broken-nose was back and the leader was eyeing him carefully. Jon shifted his grip on Frost Fang and backed up, making sure to keep all three men in his field of vision.

"So, the little lad has some tricks up his sleeve, does he?" The man growled. Jon chose to remain silent, instead watching his feet and eyes to see where he would attack next. Jon saw the moment he was about to move, the way his eyes twitched and his knees bent, ready to charge. But before he could, a white blur shot through the air, and he went down hard, screaming in pain.

Jon could only watch in amazement as Ghost clawed and chewed his way through the man. He made no sound, not even a growl, as he did so. But the man was making up for it tenfold, with guttural screaming as his throat was ripped apart, blood spurting from the wounds the direwolf made.

It seemed as though his last attacker was not so enraptured, as he felt a body barrel into his, sending him crashing into the dirt. He squirmed around desperately beneath the large man, straining to free his sword hand, which was pinned beneath him. He felt a fist collide with his jaw, and the iron taste of blood quickly pooling in his mouth.

He fumbled his free hand on the ground next to him, hoping to find something to hit the man with. But he never got the chance, as there was a sudden THUNK, followed by his attacker going limp and landing on him, pushing the breath out of Jon's chest, before rolling off, unconscious.

Tentatively, Jon looked up at his savior. It was the girl he'd saved, and she was holding a large stick in her bloodied hands, shaking like a leaf but face set in anger and determination.

"Thank you," Jon breathed, staring in awe.

She dropped the branch before reaching out a hand to him. "I should say the same," she said as he accepted the offer and helped him up. Looking around quickly, he noted that Ghost was licking at his fur calmly, and the man he'd previously been engrossed in lay on the ground, dead. The third was nowhere to be seen, having presumably run off after meeting Jon's blade.

"You're welcome," Jon offered, picking Frostfang off the ground. "But I couldn't have very well let them do that do you. It would have been wrong."

The girl offered a tentative smile, still shaking and looking like a deer ready to flee. Jon noticed this and thought on it.

"Are you alright, my lady?" He asked, looking her over for any injuries besides the growing bruises on her arms and face.

"Lyn," she said, giving her name. "And yes, I think so." Her voice was small and shaky, unsurprising given the circumstances.

"Is there somewhere I can take you, Lyn?" He asked. "Is your home nearby?"

She nodded mutely, pointing down the kingsroad to the south. "It's a large inn. Hard to miss."

"Would you like me to escort you there?" He asked. She considered it for a moment, eyeing him wearily, before nodding. "Alright, let me get my horse then."

He retrieved his steed from where he'd dismounted it further up the road and trotted back to her. With her say so, he helped the small girl up onto the beast and started to lead the horse down the road. As they passed the two remaining attackers, he fought the urge to slice the unconscious one's throat. The only reason being he didn't want to scare Lyn any more than she already had been.

After they had walked in silence for some time, Lyn spoke up.

"You're bleeding," she stated, staring at his face. Jon wasn't surprised. He could taste the blood from his split lip from when the second man had rammed him.

"Aye," he agreed easily. "It happens."

"But I thought knights never got hurt," she pondered, frowning.

Jon almost laughed, suddenly reminded of Sansa and her love of songs and stories where such things were true.

"I am no knight, my lady," he chuckled.

"And I'm no lady," Lyn retorted with a faint smile, blushing at his words. He smiled back at her and they soon lapsed into silence, the only sounds being his horse and the birds above them. Eventually, after some time, he could hear people and make out a large stone building, signaling that they had arrived at their destination of the inn of which Lyn had spoken of.

"Is this it?" He asked, turning to her.

She bobbed her head in affirmation.

"Looks fairly crowded," he noted, eyeing the large group that he could see, sure there were more beyond his vision.

"That's because the king's stayin' here," she said. "That's why I was on the road. I was going to fetch more water for all them horses."

Jon almost tripped over himself at her words. The king! Sure enough, when he looked around some more, he could make out the banners of the royal family and of other bannermen that had joined in the journey south. Jon felt ecstatic at the revelation. He had made it! He still had a chance to stop his visions from coming true.

"Will you be alright, Lyn?" He asked, turning back to the girl on his horse. She gave a tentative nod before allowing him to help her down off the destrier. After thanking him again, this time with a large hug, she bolted off towards the inn and presumably to her family. Jon felt himself smile as she ran out of sight, glad he had been able to help. He remembered her comment about him being a knight, and for a moment he allowed himself to toy with the notion. That he could be like Barristan the Bold, or Duncan the Tall. It was a nice thought. Maybe in another lifetime, it would have been true.

Shaking himself of the thought, he turned back to his and quickly mounted it, calling for Ghost to come back to his side before going off to find somewhere to stay for the night before bothering to find his father on the morrow. But at least he had made it. Now all he had to do was stop the king from beheading him, discover what the Lannisters were plotting, and somehow find a way to make sure he could stay at court without his bastard status interfering.

Needless to say, he had a long night ahead of him.