Sansa Stark
Sansa stared at the dwindling fire in front of her. Her sister Arya was sleeping snugly next to her father. Her father was on watch duty, guarding the three from any unwelcome strangers.
Sansa had been unable to sleep ever since they got out of King's Landing. The sight of her father switching faces was enough to terrorize her dreams for the rest of her life.
What if the man was not Father? What if he is just wearing Father's face.
She tried to clear her mind off all these thoughts and sleep. But these thoughts still terrorized her dreams even after she fell asleep.
The next morning when she woke up, her father had two rabbits roasted on a spit for breakfast. She was unable to enjoy it with the terrible thoughts that constantly crossed her mind.
One look at Arya, and Sansa knew that she was completely the opposite. Arya looked like she was actually enjoying this expedition. Out of the three Starks, she was the one who ate the most. Their Father had allowed both of them to carry swords as he said that they should be able to defend themselves. Only Arya was overjoyed to hear this.
"We must leave now, girls." Her father spoke in solemn tones, "The smoke from the campfire may have drawn some attention."
"Yer bet yer arse it did." A raspy voice camp from the bushes, it's owner stepping out of it. He was a middle-aged bald man, bearing a sword and a shield. He was accompanied by two other men, one comely and another with a hideously burnt face carrying a spear.
"Don't worry." The pretty one said. "I am Ser Lorne of Hornhill. I serve Lord Randyll of House Tarly. We will let you leave in peace in the name of King Renly Baratheon. But only if we can have this one first." He pointed at Sansa. She stepped behind her father.
"Yer gonna feel this, lassie." The first man said, groping his crotch.
"I'm afraid not, ser." Her father drew Ice from it's sheath. "In the name of Robb Stark, King In The North and The Trident and Lord of Winterfell, I ask you to lay down your weapons. If not, I will carve your heart and feed it to the crows."
The first man laughed. "You? Alone?"
"Don't mock him, Reas." Ser Lorne warned. Sansa could see a drip of fear in his eyes. "The blade he bears is Valyrian Steel."
"So?" Reas laughed, "The Others take his Valyrian Steel. We'll sell it off after we kill him and rape his daughters. There are three of us."
"Then three lives shall be offered to the many-faced god." Ned Stark hefted his blade.
Many-faced God? What happened to Father.
Reas drew his sword and charged. Ned danced to his left, letting the charge move harmlessly. The man with a burnt face jabbed his spear at Ned, aiming for his chest. Sansa's heart leaped as her father deflected the blow with Ice and moved to the side. Reas tried to surprise him by charging him from behind, but Ned drew his dagger with his left arm and threw it at Reas' swordarm. The man screamed and dropped his sword. Arya then drew her sword and hacked Reas' head off, spraying both her and Sansa with blood. Sansa screamed.
The scream distracted Ned, who was engaging both Ser Lorne and the burnt man. The man with the burned face drove his spear straight into Ned's swordarm, whilst Ser Lorne's sword embedded itself in Ned's armor. He just grunted in response as he cut Ice horizontally in a deadly arc, opening the bellies of both Ser Lorne and the burnt man. Both of them collapsed.
Her father then drove Ice into the eye of the burnt man and turned to face Ser Lorne.
"Please...mercy, my lord. Lord Randyll will pay...Yes, he will pay a lot of gold for his favorite knight..." Ser Lorne cried.
"I have no need of your gold." The voice that came from her father's mouth scared Sansa.
"Who...Who are you?"
"I am Eddard Stark, Former Lord of Winterfell and Hand Of The King. And now you will die."
"Please no...Mercy..."
He got none.
Sansa's father drove his blade into the knight's heart.
"Valar Morghulis." He said as he collapsed onto the floor.