So it would seem that my muse has been smiling a lot recently because I actually managed to finish the next chapter really fast. And it was so long I have decided to split it in two. So here you have the first part...

Hoster Tully wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. He was in a precarious situation, a moment in the history of his old and proud house that would either lead to downfall or greatness. And all because of one wrong decision he had made years before. Back then it had been clear which path he had to take. The king was insane and the realm only one major incident away from civil war. But all of that had changed with one marriage…

And now the woman who had made that very importance difference for the royal family was here, in the same keep as him, attending his oldest daughter's wedding. But how to deal with the queen, whose powers had been described in such way and detail, that most sane men would not waste a single moment to believe they exist. Not that it made any difference.

Queen Senna of House Peverell, the great treasure of Myr and religious symbol of the fire-worshipping heathens in the east. And now the first dragon rider in over a century… Both beloved and feared, Hoster knew that one word from her could end him and his family. And no one would raise a hand to aid them. Not against her, not against someone who had somehow bewitched half of the great lords of the realm and seemingly cowed the rest.

But what to do now? It was obviously too late to try and earn her friendship. There had clearly been disdain in her eyes when she had looked at him. All the others in the courtyard, especially the young Stark and that dolt from the Stormlands had been greeted with kindness and obvious fondness. But then he remembered. His daughter, Catelyn, had also been spared the queen's ill will. It was a tiny ray of hope, but if push comes to shove, Catelyn may be his only chance to make the queen listen…

Now he was glad that he had pushed for her marriage to the lord of Winterfell to happen. Brandon Stark would have been a good ally, one who had been just as suspicious of the Targaryens as he is. But the fool got himself killed beyond the Wall, so only his younger brother remained. But maybe Eddard was the better choice in these troubled times. The balance of power had tipped in the Targaryen's favor and a close friend of the queen would likely be the better husband for his daughter than one who acted against them.

He looked to his side, where he saw Catelyn. She had joined him for the evening, at his behest, to keep her from running into the queen before he had come up with a new battle plan. She busied herself with some needlework and tried to look calm and collected. But he knew that she felt just as anxious as he was.

His beautiful young daughter. The best of his three children. As beautiful as her mother had been, but far stronger and with a clever mind. She would need all of her talents now. Hoster didn't like it much, but he would have to place the future of House Tully on his daughter's delicate shoulders.

Arthur didn't like the situation they had found themselves in, the moment they had set foot inside the Kingswood. Even with three thousand well-armed men and over a hundred knights of varying repute he couldn't help himself but worry. Not just for Ashara's wellbeing, but also for the outcome of this very difficult task.

Due to his own emotional involvement in this fight, he had deferred to Ser Barristan to fill the position as the sole leader of this small army. He trusted the Lord Commander to do the right thing, especially since the man had already seen his fair share of fighting in the past.

Yet Arthur also worried when Ser Barristan disregarded the obvious disdain of the smallfolk in and around the forest. Maybe the Lord Commander was right, and the winter was the cause of the issues these people seemed to have with the royal army. But Arthur wasn't sure that this was really the only cause for their feelings.

Then there was the forest itself. Old and dangerous. Many parts were unknown, seeing as the lords of the land only really cared about the roads and paid little heed to anything that happened far away from them. No one could tell just how many small settlements were hidden in the depths of this forest. Just like no one really knew how big the Kingswood Brotherhood really is.

"Keep your eyes open, Jaime," Arthur ordered his squire, who rode next to him. "Expect an enemy in every shadow and behind every tree."

"But they are just brigands," the young Lannister replied indignantly.

"Never underestimate an enemy. You feel contempt for them because of what they are, but a sword in the hands of a brigand can kill you just as easily as one in the hands of a knight," Arthur lectured.

Even after all the time, the boy had been his squire, Jaime was still brash and far too proud. If he survives this mission, he might learn a very important lesson.

"Arthur, we should split the troops up and begin searching the area around the Kingsroad where the attacks have happened," Ser Barristan called out to him. "Take a thousand men to the west, I will take a thousand to the east. The rest shall patrol the Kingsroad."

"Is that wise?" Arthur questioned.

"There is too much forest to cover and too little time if we wish to find the kidnapped ladies alive," Ser Barristan replied somberly.

Of course, Arthur wouldn't forget them. His own sister's life was on the line and he had all reason to rush this entire expedition. It was why he had not taken command himself. But it would do them no good to split up and get ambushed one after another. But he would respect his commander, maybe Ser Barristan's experience would serve them well here.

So the split the troops up. A thousand each went with Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur, and Ser Tygett Lannister, who had come along on his brother's command. But it was agreed upon to reunite the troops before nightfall, to make one large camp that would be harder for the brigands and their possible allies to attack.

Arthur lead his man deeper into the woods, away from the road and any semblance of civilization. The trees here were tall and ancient, like the entire forest. He idly wondered what fabled heroes of ages long past might have camped underneath the branches of these trees before. If the trees could talk, oh how many wonderous tales could they possibly tell…

"Ser Arthur," Jaime's presence shook Arthur out of his short lived reverie. As he looked upon his squire, he could see a great deal of caution on the boy's face.

"Yes, Jaime? Have you seen something?"

"Not yet, but… I can't shake the feeling that we are being watched. As if they are waiting for us in the shadows, scouting for any weakness in our lines that they might exploit."

"I see," Arthur replied monotonously. Truth be told, he had the same feeling. And he didn't like it one bit. Rhaegar might have had good intentions by giving them so many soldiers for this quest, but the sheer size of their force destroyed any chance to sneak up on anyone in this forest. The Brotherhood would hear and see them long before they could claim the same.

"Ser Arthur, may I take a dozen riders and search the area a bit more closely? We would be faster and less obvious for our enemies to spot."

Arthur considered this for a moment. The idea itself wasn't bad at all, but he had his doubts that Jaime was ready for such a duty yet. And he risking the boy's life needlessly would not sit well with Lord Tywin. Getting Jaime killed was not the kind of trouble that Rhaegar would need right now.

"No, Jaime. We shouldn't split up just yet. Not before we know the land a little better," he replied. He could see both disappointment and slight anger in the young Lannister's face. He was young and eager. Born and raised in a world were no wish seemed unrealizable. The boy felt as if the whole world was his to conquer and was eager to prove it.

For the moment Jaime would have to reign in his desires. He would get too bloody his sword soon enough. All they could do on these first few days of their campaign was to scout the area and question the smallfolk for clues. The Kingswood Brotherhood likely had a base somewhere inside the forest and if they manage to find it, they would hopefully find the women as well. He could only hope, for Ashara's sake.

Senna stood calmly next to Robert, as they watched the ceremony. Weddings in the North were quite different from the rest of the realm, she noticed. Of course, their was a different faith, with the Old Gods and a wide variety of other things that Septons in the south scoff at as barbarism and heathen worship.

"If Ned looks any more stoic he will start shitting stones," Robert commented, his voice low so only Senna would hear it. They had been talking quietly the entire time. If anyone felt disturbed by this, they dared not bring it up. No one would reprimand the queen, after all.

She chuckled lightly but refrained from commenting on the matter herself. This was hardly a marriage of love, but rather one of political necessity. At least for the Tullys. If he so wished, Eddard would have a quite a number of ladies to choose from.

For some time Senna had believed that Ned had fancied Ashara. Maybe he had, but his sudden departure for Winterfell had made any further contemplation of such a match null and void. Ned was the Lord of Winterfell now, succeeding both his father and brother. And dutiful as he is, Ned even honored a marriage pact made for Brandon, even though the Tullys had no leverage to force him to comply. And even if they had, Senna would have put an end to their schemes, for her friend's sake. But Ned agreed and maybe he would find a suitable match in this Catelyn Tully.

Senna had yet to speak to the girl in private. She had wished to do so before the wedding, but her business with Ned and Robert had kept her occupied, not to mention that Hoster Tully had kept his daughter close to his side and would not leave her alone until she is truly wed to the Lord of Winterfell. The man considered himself clever, but Senna would rather call him a bold fool.

"And Hoster Tully, looking all smug as if he has won some battle," Robert scoffed, "I don't understand why you don't take the fool to task."

"There is no need to," Senna assured him, "The man knows that his daughter is his only hope. With the Arryns, Tyrells and Lannisters on Rhaegar's council, the North is his only hope to avoid complete isolation. It takes not magic to see this fools future."

"Why allow him this? He has done nothing to deserve another chance!"

Senna sighed. She could understand why Robert was upset. He didn't want Ned to become a pawn in some fool's game. She felt the same. But she still remembered some of the things she had learned from another old fool. Dumbledore had not just believed in redemption but also in doing things for the sake of the bigger picture. She herself had been a pawn in his plans, but all her suffering had not been without reason. Ned wouldn't suffer, he might even gain a good partner. But even if Hoster Tully considered himself a shrewd tactician and plotter, she would not begrudge him that feeling if it ensured that the Tullys and with them the Riverlands would remain pacified for the time being.

"I do believe that Catelyn might be good for him," she told Robert, "Even if he never finds it in his heart to love her, she can give him children to love and cherish. He needs that or the shadows of his lost family will haunt him forever."

"We don't even know whether Brandon and Lyanna are dead," Robert muttered. He was still in denial and not even Senna could make him see reason. He hoped to find Lyanna one day, to take her south with him and make her his wife. His obsession with the girl was dangerous.

"Let us focus on the wedding and the feast today," she said in an attempt to steer the topic away from the dark thoughts that flood Robert's mind every time he thinks about Lyanna. "I've heard that northern ale is quite good."

Robert chuckled again, as he looked at her, "As if they would serve a queen anything but the best wine they can find."

She smirked impishly at him, as she answered, "Well, then it would be prudent to allow Dorea a night to carouse. She has not had much fun in recent months. All her drinking buddies have skipped town."

Robert couldn't keep the barking laugh in and interrupted the ceremony quite rudely for a moment, not that he cared. It was obvious to her that Robert had missed their nightly excursions just as much as she had. She had enjoyed herself greatly and under the guise of Dorea she was able to see how the people in King's Landing truly think and talk about the royal family. It was both relaxing and informative, one of the few reasons why Rhaegar accepted this strange hobby of his wife. That and her husband trusts Robert with her safety... as if she needs to be protected.

They watched the rest of the ceremony in silence, as Ned and Catelyn spoke their vows. It was obvious that the girl felt uncomfortable with the customs of the North, but her family was in no place to demand that Eddard follows their southron customs. But Senna was sure that Catelyn would learn to adapt. Sooner or later she would learn. And who knows, in time Ned might even take her south again. Senna would make sure to mention that all members of House Stark will always be welcome in the capital.

First, however, they would need to deal with the trouble in the North. It was unlikely that they would ever find any traces of the lost Starks. At least none of Lord Rickard and Brandon. Once the winter would end, they might find Lyanna's remains… if she was truly dead, that is. Maybe Robert was right and she is still alive, hiding out somewhere like a petulant child that had run away from home.

Jaime Lannister was bored. It was the seventh day now since they had entered the Kingswood to rid the realm of the plagued the trade routes through the forest. But for seven days that had found naught but shadows and silent peasants. It was maddening.

He could see the haunted look on Ser Arthur's face grow with every passing day. Jaime could relate to the man, had anyone dared to lay a hand on his sister, he wouldn't find rest either until the matter is resolved and all men involved are dead.

Cersei… he tried to keep her from his mind these days. Too painful had his longing for her been before his ardor had diminished significantly. His duties had kept him away from her. And she seemed to avoid him as well. She had not even been there to see him off when he and Ser Arthur left the Red Keep to join the assembled army outside of the city. Even before he had not had a single moment alone with her in over a year now…

"Jaime, go and get some sleep, we will ride early tomorrow morning," Ser Arthur told him, as the knight was on the way to his own tent.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" Jaime asked, quite curious about this. Anything was welcome, as long as it got him out of the camp for a day or two and allowed him to fight.

"The scouts have found another settlement half a day's ride north from here, we will go there to question the people," Arthur replied simply before he disappeared into his tent.

Questioning peasants… Jaime groaned in annoyance. It was dull and the people were either too scared or too angry to tell them anything. It was odd how quickly the opinion of the royal family and the lords of the realm changed as soon as one got away walls of a city. Or was it unique to the people who live in this damn forest? Too many years in this dark place would surely be detrimental to the mental health.

He contemplated going to sleep, but he did not feel weary at all. He had not done much these past few days and now he had energy in spades. So instead he walked around the camp and watched the other knights that were around.

He could see Lord Sumner Crakehall and his squire among the men. Years ago, before he had been brought to King's Landing to serve Ser Arthur and the king, he had been Lord Sumner's squire. It was a good time, but hardly as prestigious as the service to Ser Arthur.

But he did not dwell on the past for long, instead, he walked on until he reached the edge of the camp. Guards were stationed all around him. Three hundred would stand guard at any time of the day, too great was the danger of nightly raids. They had already lost a hundred men to the arrows from the darkest corners. Even now he had to be careful.

Jaime stared into the darkness. He didn't know why, but he just felt like it. Maybe he did look strong and dignified, staring into the unknown like a fabled hero of the old days. He wondered if Cersei would like to see him like this… but then again, she had not shown much interest in him in recent times…

Then he saw something in the darkness. Something was moving there, just out of the reach of the torches' light. It wasn't a deer, for that it was too small. No, he was sure that there was a person hiding behind the trees. He remained silent, as he did not wish to show that he had seen that person. He could barely trace the movement, but he was sure that he had not been mistaken. And he got his confirmation when suddenly an arrow came in his direction. It missed him, but had he not noticed the moving shadow before, he might just as well have been killed.

"To arms, we are under attack," Jaime yelled at the men around him.

Without much hesitation he stormed out of the camp, followed by at least a dozen other men to confront the attacker. But he had not considered just how dark it was in this forest. Still, his eyes remained focused on the moving shadow and he remained in pursuit.

He acted purely on instinct, as he ran into the ever growing darkness of the night, not thinking about the dangers that would await him and the possibility of a trap. He had waited a whole week for a fight and had to watch as these cowards attacked from the shadow. They kill a few men and disappear into the darkness, every night. Jaime was fed up and wanted to see them bleed for once. Of course, he knew that Ser Arthur would chew his head off for action so rashly, but at that moment he couldn't hear the command from the camp to return. He heard nothing but the forest underneath his boots and thumping of his own heartbeat.

Before he realized it, he had run so far that the light of the camp was nothing but a faint shimmer behind him. None of the soldiers who had followed him could keep up, so he was alone. Almost. The shadow he had seen was still running away from him, but he had gotten closer.

His opponent was getting slower, but obviously not by choice. Whoever it was, the attacker was not as well trained as Jaime. Closer and closer. He was almost withing reach. Then he had him. He managed to grab the attacker and push him hard enough to make him stumble and fall.

The hunt was over, but Jaime only then realized how far he had moved away from the camp. He couldn't even see the faintest trace of it anymore. And he was winded after running for so long.

He looked down at the person who had attacked him near the camp. A scrawny looking waif by the looks of it. Dressed in dirty clothes that seemed ill-fitting, with a dark hood obscuring the face and hair. He had a sword, but no bow. It confused Jaime at first, but he quickly realized that the man must have dropped it while running away.

"Get up, you damn coward," Jaime growled, as he kicked the man.

His opponent did not waste much time now and quickly jumped up. Swords were drawn and the two stood face to face again.

"Time to show your people that we are done playing," Jaime said, as he moved to attack.

Jaime quickly got the upper hand in the fight. His opponent was obviously not a sword fighter at all. What the waif lacked in strength, it failed to make up for with technique. It was almost as if he was fighting a little boy who had just begun to learn the basics.

Only a few more hits were needed, before the waif was on the ground, bleeding profusely from the many cuts Jaime had caused. It hadn't been a good fight and somehow Jaime was hesitant to kill. Maybe it was a pitty, though he wasn't sure whether he pitied the waif or himself for getting into this much trouble for a rather unfulfilling fight. But what surprised him more, was when the waif removed the dark hood and stared at him with great defiance.

"What are you waiting for? Do it, kill me now and be done with it, you bastard!"

Again Jaime hesitated, though for a different reason this time.

"A… woman? Seven hells," he exclaimed in shock.

Before him on the ground lay a woman, not a scrawny man as he had believed at first. He remembered that there were some women fighting for the Brotherhood, but he had not expected to face one of them in battle.

"What a sad sight," another man suddenly announced behind Jaime.

Before the young Lannister could fully grasp what was happening, the first attack of his new assailant came. A powerful blow, which he barely managed to deflect. A second followed, strong enough to knock the sword from Jaime's hand before the third sent him to the ground.

"Now look at you, Wenda," the man said mockingly, "You had been warned not to go out alone to antagonize the king's pawns."

Jaime could see as the man tried to help this Wenda up. But the moment she grabbed the offered hand, the man pulled her up and rammed the pommel of his sword into her gut. Jaime could only watch, as Wenda collapsed, desperately gasping for air.

"Now look at this, you foolish child. You fell onto my sword. Poor you," the man said, before he cackled madly, "Better this end than the other, don't you agree? Yes, of course, you do. Now get yourself back to the camp before you meet the other end."

Jaime tried to get back up, as the other two were busy with each other, but his movement didn't escape the man. He dropped Wenda and quickly attacked Jaime again, though this time with the blunt side of his sword.

"What an ungrateful guest you are, little lion," the man cackled. "I just can't allow you to leave us so soon. Not until you have enjoyed all the wonderful things we have to offer." Then he hit Jaime again. This time the young Lannister lost consciousness.

It was a calm day in the Red Keep. Too calm for the tastes of Cersei Lannister. As much as she loathed to admit it, without the queen, the life in the keep had become a dull repetition of the same tasks, day in day out. Always the same mind-numbing duties, as if she was some lowly servant. But ever since she had agreed, or more like ever since she had been forced to agree, by her father, to become one the queen's ladies in waiting, she had been little more than a servant. Her own social groups, which she had created with such diligence and care, had all but collapsed as soon as the queen had banished several ladies for the attempted murder of her unborn children. Several families had been disgraced entirely, stripped of land, titles, and fortune, they had been forced to leave the realm. And all they had once been, had been given to sycophants of the new queen.

Cersei herself had only escaped punishment for her involvement thanks to her careful planning. There had been no traces that would have incriminated her. Even those foolish ladies who had been banished had believed that it had been their idea all along. But Cersei was sure that the queen knew the truth and even now the young Lannister did her utmost to find herself ample protection from the queen's wrath. She was well aware that her father's power would only protect her for so long and unless the queen and her ill-begotten spawns would find an... untimely end, Cersei would have to be cautious.

She sneered, as she looked towards the other end of the room, where the queen's children lay in their cribs. It was one of the few days when she was allowed to be near them. Only because of the Dayne girl's absence. But even now they would not leave her alone with the children. Both of the queen's most trusted handmaidens and Princess Elia were in the room as well.

The Dornish princess did like her even less than the queen, that much was obvious. It was a shared sentiment, though. Cersei hated Elia as well. The dreaded woman was mocking her at every turn she got. Not openly, that was the shrewd part of it, but with the way she assumed the leadership role among the queen's ladies.

By all means, it should be her to control the actions of the other ladies and not that frail Dornish harlot who had somehow fooled everyone into believing that she was only here out of friendship for the queen. Cersei scoffed at such a pretentious lie.

Everyone had a reason, everyone had a price. The Dayne girl was here to better her position and to find a way better husband that she would deserve due to her low birth. And the Tyrell girl's sole purpose was to act as a chaperone for her own brother, who was little more than a simpering fool. All of them had reasons for their actions, except Elia Martell, who claimed that friendship was reward enough for her. Sometimes Cersei wished they were both men, so she could challenge that darn woman to a duel for such slights.

Bored out of her mind, Cersei began to pace around in the room. Of course, she wasn't a prisoner and free to leave whenever she wished, but she was also aware that nothing would please Elia more than to see her leave. And the chance that the king would come to the nursery to visit his children was too good to just leave. She had little enough chances to make an impression on the man… for the unlikely case that his current queen would not return this time or sometime in the future.

So she stayed inside the nursery and walked over to the cribs. That woman's children were sleeping, which suited Cersei well enough. She wasn't meant to mind other people's children. By all means, these should have been here children in these cribs. Had that Myrish harlot not appeared, then she would have married Rhaegar, Cersei was sure of it. There was no better match in the whole realm or beyond.

But then the girl had to wake up and make a fuss. Just, as usual, Elia was about to stand up and tend to the child, that insufferable smile on her lips. Cersei, however, wouldn't have it! Before Elia could reach them, she took the girl from her crib and held her in front of her.

"Careful, Cersei. Alysanne doesn't appreciate it when people hold her like that," Elia chided her gently.

Cersei's mood worsened even more. What did she care about the whims of the child? The babe had to do what she wanted, not the other way round. Yet it was obvious that the girl was not one to be ignored and before Cersei could react, the little monster barfed on her!

"Ah, now look at this," Elia said, as she took Alysanne from Cersei, "I know that you don't like it when others feed you, but your mother isn't here and you should keep the food inside, little princess."

Oh, the nerve of that woman. She had been the one who had been soiled by that little monster and all Elia could think about were the whims of the child. At least one of the handmaidens had the decency to act and help her, not that it did any good. The gown was ruined for sure. So she stormed out of the room to wash and change into clean clothes. She wouldn't allow being ridiculed for looking anything but perfect. Her ire only grew, as she heard laughing wherever she went. She was already the laughing stock of the entire keep… little did she know that it wasn't the soiled gown that caused the amusement among the people, but rather the garish green color her hair had suddenly changed to…

Jaime groaned, as he slowly returned to the land of the waking. His head was throbbing painfully and he felt all sticky and gross as if he had decided to sleep in a stinking pit of horse manure. It was only moments later, that he realized where he was. He was a prisoner of the Kingswood Brotherhood. Oh, the shame! He wasn't sure who would punish him more for this disgrace, Ser Arthur or his father…

"So, finally done with your nap?"

He looked to his side, where he saw another wooden cage, not far from his own. Inside were two girls, one he didn't know, but the other he knew all too well. Ashara Dayne, the very reason why Ser Arthur was so driven to find the Brotherhood.

"I wondered when you would wake up. They said the Smiling Knight caught you and he isn't known for leaving people alive," Ashara continued.

"He surprised me, that is all," Jaime defended himself weakly against the veiled accusation.

"I have to admit, I had not expected you of all people to appear here," Ashara told him, as she watched him with those curious violet eyes.

"I came to this blasted forest to rescue you," he replied snappishly.

She looked surprised at first before she looked around. "Good job," she answered simply. She seemed to be amused, though her words lacked the mockery he would have expected in this situation. There were none of those little quips she would usually reserve just for him. On the other hand, Ashara had been a prisoner for little over two weeks now and had seen gods know what. At least it didn't look like the bandits had done anything to her.

"You look healthy for a prisoner," he mentioned, as he wondered what these men were planning to do with her.

Ashara sighed sadly and shook her head. "They believe that I am worth a lot more than the others, because of my close relationship with the queen. They wish to ransom me directly to her, but she hasn't been in King's Landing for a few days, so they wait. They dare not touch me because of that, but..." She stopped suddenly and looked at the other girl in her cage. Pale and dirty, the gown ripped in several places, the other girl looked as if she had been mauled by a bear. "Jeyne is my third cellmate since I've been captured..."

"What happened to the others?" he asked. His curiosity had gotten the better of him before he could use his own wits to figure it out.

But even despite the ill-thought question, Ashara answered him, "They… break them, before they take them to the coast to sell them to a slaver they work with." Her voice was suddenly hoarse and she paled as well. It was clear that they didn't do the breaking out of earshot of these cages and Ashara had to watch while knowing that she had only been spared this fate because of Queen Senna. "These fools don't know what they are dealing with. When Senna finds out about this, she will annihilate them all. The only thing that awaits these bandits is the fiery vengeance of our queen." Her words were like a desperate prayer. Something she could cling to, in order not to despair here.

"Well, the queen is in the North at the moment. I don't really know when she will return, so we will have to do the whole saving thing on our own," Jaime told her, "Just give me a few moments, I will think of something. I will get you and your new friend there out of this mess."

Ashara smiled weakly at, but there was some hope in her eyes. Jaime vowed to himself that he would get them out of this situation if only to see Ashara smirk at him again like she always liked to do when they meet in the Red Keep.

But they remained silent after this, as several men came walking towards his cage. One of them was the man he had fought against the day before. The scrawny woman was with them, as well as a man Jaime had not seen before. But his eyes remained on the man he had fought. The Smiling Knight… he had no idea what the man looks like before their encounter, but he knew enough else. This man was rumored to be one of the finest swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms, but his mind was a wretched mix of chivalry and utter madness. Many were seeking this madman to test their skill, but the fact that none had returned to tell what he looks like could only lead to one conclusion.

"So, Jaime Lannister, son of the mighty Tywin. Finest catch of the month," the man he didn't know said gleefully. "Two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins should be a fine price, don't you agree, little Lannister?"

"Only that?" Jaime scoffed.

"Oh, so you say you are worth more than that?" the man asked, greed shining in his eyes.

"You should demand three times as much," Jaime advised, "You will need it to buy yourself a ship that will take you to the other end of the world. Because the moment I am out of your reach my father will pay every sellsword and every assassin from here to Ashai to find you and slaughter you. You and everyone you care about. You, your woman, your bastards, even every fucking dog you have ever liked and every goat you have fucked. Just remember, a Lannister always pays his debts, you can ask the Reynes and Tarbecks to confirm it for you… if you find one that is still alive that is."

He let out all of his pent-up anger and frustration in that little speech. And much to his satisfaction, it had shut the man up. He even looked slightly worried now. Rightfully so. The Rain's of Castamere are a reminder to all people in this world about what happens to those who stand against House Lannister.

But the Smiling Knight just laughed madly at this. "Now I like you, even more, little lion. Your father will send me many more lambs to slaughter. Maybe I will keep you as a pet. I always wanted a pet lion."

"Enough!" the other man roared in an attempt to regain a bit of the dignity he had just lost, "Your father will never find us, Lannister. But he will pay your price. And when you return to him, tell him that Simon Tyone sends his regard. And make sure to tell that king as well." Then he turned towards the woman, "Wenda, you stand watch for now. It's not like they can escape, but at least here you are less useless than anywhere else." Then he marched away, the cackling knight following him swiftly, leaving Jaime and Ashara alone with the woman Jaime had fought before.

"Wow, you really look like shit," Jaime remarked, as he looked at Wenda. At first she wouldn't meet his eyes, but eventually, she looked at him with all the disdain she could muster, which wasn't all that much with the bruises on her face and one eye swollen shut from the beating she must have received for losing her fight against him.

Ashara watched them with some curiosity, obviously wondering what must have happened to the girl. But as she looked at her, Ashara obviously found something the surprised her, "Jaime, the sigil."

Jaime looked at what she was pointing at. He hadn't seen it before, but now he saw it as well. A small white fawn stitched onto the front of her tunic. A white fawn… he remembered the briefing he had attended, where Ser Arthur explained what the Brotherhood had done and who they had abducted. The first to disappear had been the younger daughter of Lord Cafferen of Fawnton, a lordship near the edge of the Kingswood. And the sigil he had seen looked remarkably like the white fawn on this girl's clothes. But the lord's daughter had a different name. He couldn't recall it at that moment, but he was sure it wasn't Wenda. Still, this was too much to be a coincidence.

"Life in Fawnton must have been dull," he remarked. He couldn't keep the vicious grin hidden when he saw her flinch. "So it is true. You are not a victim, you are a traitor."

"You know nothing, Lannister," Wenda hissed in anger. "No one denies the Smiling Knight, no one." She walked further away from the cages and settled down with her back leaning against a tree. She still watched the prisoners as she had been ordered, but it was quite obvious that she would not speak another word.

Senna watched as the land underneath Draco's wing passed by. White and green, with a spot of brown dirt every now and then. In some regard, the North wasn't much suited for sightseeing. In fact, except for Whitehaven and Winterfell itself, there was only one place worth visiting, at least for royalty. The Wall. The place she felt drawn towards ever since she had left the safe confines of King's Landing.

It was as if something was calling out to her. It had been subtle at first, but the night before she had a dream about the Wall, so vivid that she had almost believed it was a real memory. It was why she had decided to pay this particular landmark a visit, despite her promise to Rhaegar that she would not go further than Winterfell. She just had to know what it was that drew her there.

Ned had been worried and Robert had been adamant to come with her when she told them about her intention to travel further North. Neither could stop her when she mounted Draco and flew off without looking back. She would return swiftly enough. Thanks to Draco it was possible to get to the Wall and back to Winterfell in about a day, maybe even less if the moody lizard doesn't act up, which he liked to do every now and then.

It was almost midday when she finally reached the gigantic monument. She wondered just how a bunch of humans had built something this big. Of course, she had heard that there had been giants involved, but still, building something of this size must have taken ages. Even more in the hostile environment of the North. Even on a warm summer day, the ground is frozen solid here and the winds are more than a mere annoyance.

She steered Draco towards the top of the Wall and landed near the northern edge. She wouldn't go any further for now. She may have broken the promise to Rhaegar that she would stay in Winterfell, but she wouldn't betray his trust further by traveling to the place where both Ned's father and brother had disappeared… or die, more likely.

She left Draco behind, as she walked further towards the edge. The land beyond the Wall was vast and not quite as desolate as she had expected. It wasn't exactly the desolate ice desert that others had warned her about. It looked like the North, only without the villages and keeps.

"Ah, the land of death. Isn't it remarkable," the familiar voice of Death told her. But unlike usual, this time it wasn't a whisper in her ear, but the voice coming from a real manifestation of Death.

The bane of her existence was hovering not far from her, a dark specter that looked strikingly like a dementor after he had lost a few rounds of strip poker.

"This is the first time you have actually manifested in a world," she said in astonishment. Not even in Tartarus Death had managed this feat. Thus far she had always believed that Death was unable to manifest anywhere in a living world, it was why he was in need of people like her, who would do his bidding.

"It is truly a marvelous place," Death agreed, "A place where even the greatest of nightmares can assume any shape and form. Do you feel it? The blood used in the rituals to build this barrier? The ancestors of your friends were so afraid of what lies beyond… Rightfully so. What lies beyond this wall is truly unnatural."

"Why are you here? You haven't bothered me in so long, I had begun to hope that you have tired of tormenting me," Senna said with a weary sigh.

"Oh, my dear, I would never tire of you," Death cackled. "But I a merely here to observe… and to warn."

"To warn me?"

"You are not meant for this place. Banishing this darkness has never been your duty and a soul as tainted as yours cannot prevail here without unleashing untold horrors upon this world," Death told her, suddenly very serious.

Senna didn't really know what he had meant, but she was well aware what he had alluded to. The new prophecy in this world, that implicated not her as the one burdened with the duty of banishing the darkness, but rather her child. Daeron is supposed to fight the darkness, many believe that. Melisandre was among the most ardent supporters of this misconception. But Senna wouldn't sit back and send her child alone into the darkness.

"I will not..." she stopped suddenly when she realized that Death had already left. She sighed again, still bothered by what he had told her. She couldn't really understand what it was that he tried to tell her with his warning. But her time to contemplate was cut short.

The sickly green light shot past her, missing her by mere inches. It was a curse she had not seen since the end of her first life. The killing curse, a vile and perverted form of magic that the nemesis of her first life had been so fond of. And as her eyes found the source of the curse, her breath hitched in her throat.

"This is not possible. You can't be here, at least no in this form," she yelled, as she saw Lord Voldemort in all his twisted glory.

"Potter," Voldemort hissed, "You can try to break my body, but you will never be rid of me."

"I defeated you once, I will do so again. And now I have powers that Harry could only dream of," Senna replied, as grabbed her staff, which she had carried on her belt in his shrunk form and enlarged it again. "And when I'm done with you, your spirit will be shattered into so many pieces that not even a million of your minions could ever hope to find enough to reassemble you."

She was about to attack Voldemort when another attack from the other side drew her attention. But it wasn't a curse this time, but a silver arrow.

"You've got to be kidding me," Senna cursed when she saw the bane of her second life standing on the other side of her.

Artemis, goddess of the Moon and the Hunt. The goddess who had hunted her like an animal in her second life. The one who had challenged her and driven her to the point of desperation. The woman whose zealous compliance to her father's orders had been the cause for Senna's former self to side with the enemies of mankind… The goddess who had killed her at the very end and robbed her of any chance at redemption.

But now, standing between the madman and the goddess who had made her first and second life hell, Senna could only wonder what they were doing here. Were they even real? She couldn't be sure, but both the curse and the arrow seemed real enough to warrant caution.

"Now you will pay for your treason, spawn of the underworld," Artemis spat, before both, she and Voldemort attacked again.

A/N: Alright, this is a good point to end this chapter. The second part is almost finished as well and will be up in a few days, so for now, you will have to wait.

At first, I had planned to limit Senna's involvement in this chapter, but as I wrote the chapter, I had a whole bunch of marvelous ideas for her first short visit to the Wall. The barrier itself is quite dangerous, so one can only guess what might happen should Senna move further north. But for now, the main antagonists of her first two lives will be enough trouble for her to deal with.

Which brings me to another point. Many have asked me to write a story or at least a one-shot about Senna's second life, as the demigoddess Cassandra in the Percy Jackson storyline. I can now confirm that I have indeed begun to write a short story detailing some of the key points of that former life. But with the little time I currently spend on the story, it will likely be a few more months before I can present you all that story.

One last thing. About the Kingswood Brotherhood and most importantly Wenda the White Fawn. It has never been confirmed or denied that Wenda had been a daughter of Lord Cafferen. For the sake of the story, I assume that she had been a runaway noble who had ended up with the wrong crowd. Especially when there is such an interesting character like the Smiling Knight.

So, this is all for now. I hope you all liked the chapter and that you all will read the second part as soon as I have finished it.