A/N: And here's another one. Someone asked me if the story's going to follow the show's plot, and I can thankfully say that it won't, because it turned into a Mummer's Farce in S5. Instead, it's going to be following the novels of A Song of Ice and Fire, though it'll diverge within a chapter or two.

Will Youmu use danmaku? Maybe, but not this early in the story. Magic is still very much a rare thing, and being able to absorb the essence of Summer is only because she's been in the Red Keep, a place with magical origins. After Dany's dragons are born, and the Others and Euron begin making their respective moves, Youmu will slowly become stronger and nearly be as strong as she is in Gensokyo. I simply don't want to write an utter curb-stomp fic and have her brute force every challenge she comes across, cause that would be boring.

"That's a lie."

Youmu was almost finished packing her belongings to depart King's Landing. The last three to four days passed her by in a blur after she was brought before the iron throne itself and forced to explain herself for why she attacked a kingsguard and slew several Lannister men in the streets of King's Landing.

Cersei was the one who uttered those words when the gardener finished her account of what happened.

"It's the truth, Your Grace."

Robert looked bored and irritated while seated on the massive, tangled and gnarled mess of swords that were melted together to form a disfigured chair that remained a symbol of power and conquest ever since Aegon took the Seven Kingdoms.

"But why were you with Eddard Stark at some whore house, girl?" Robert spoke up this time, "Why were you with his men?"

Youmu bit her lip and glanced to the side. She'd been instructed not to tell Robert or Cersei of their investigation, but she had to say something. She let out a sigh. "Lord Stark was searching for two of his other men with his captain of the guard. He encountered me as I was on the way back to the Red Keep and asked me to assist him. I did, and then the kingslayer and his men ambushed us."

"Why was Lord Baelish with you?" This question came from Ser Barristan.

"I assume that the establishment was his, which explains his presence."

Robert seemed in thought for a minute before grumbling and standing. "You, Ned, and Jaime will make peace with each other and that'll be that."

"Your grace, with respect, Ser Jaime's men cut down the captain of Lord Stark's guard and two others. That'd be rather hard to make peace with." Youmu spoke up, though her face was stoic so as to not betray any emotions.

Robert laughed. "Girl, you and Ned's men cut down seven of the kingslayer's, including injuring Jaime and killing his captain of the guard. I think that's rather fair, don't you think?"

The king turned to leave before Youmu could get out another word, though Cersei remained after the rest of the small council left. The queen advanced on Youmu and gripped the half phantom's forearm as she glared hatefully at the smaller girl. "You're lucky you didn't kill my brother, or your head would be on a spike if I had any word on the matter." Her voice was low and menacing.

Youmu's lips slowly curled into a smile. "I didn't kill your brother," she yanked her arm away, "because he's a kingsguard, and your father's heir to Casterly Rock."

"Do you have any idea what you did to him?"

"Of course, Your Grace," Youmu smiled again, "that's why I hear they call me the Liontamer."

Another day passed and Robert left on a hunting expedition to the Kingswood, which left Ned, who resumed his duties as Hand, in charge.

Youmu sat in the gallery while the court was in session. Several smallfolk, minor lords, and knights were petitioning the crown and detailing horrors that had befallen them in the Riverlands. Ser Raymun Darry, Ser Karyl Vance, and Ser Marq Piper were the three notable knights explaining what had happened.

"Every man among them was mounted and mailed, my lord," Ser Karyl answered calmly. "They were armed with steel-tipped lances and longswords, with battle-axes for butchering." He gestured toward one of the ragged survivors. "You. Yes, you, no one's going to hurt you. Tell the Hand what you told me."

The man stood up and cleared his throat. "Their horses," he started, clearly nervous. "They were warhorses. I worked years in Ser Willum's stables, so I knows the difference. Not a one of them ever pulled a plow!"

"Well-mounted brigands," observed Littlefinger. "Perhaps they stole the horses from the last place they raided."

"How many men were there in this raiding party?" Ned asked.

Shouts were sounded out of fifty, a hundred, and hundreds of hundreds. Youmu frowned. Well-armed brigands being able to freely burn and rape through the Riverlands? Unlikely.

Ned seemed to agree as he asked more questions. "You say they flew no banners. But what of their armor? Did they wear anything that would tell their allegiance?"

"No, m'lord. They didn't wear anything special, but their leader was no mistaking for his identity." He trembled as he recalled the horrors that befell his town, "Those who say the giants are all dead never saw this one, I swear. Big as an ox he was, and a voice like stone breaking."

"The Mountain!" Ser Marq said loudly. "Can any man doubt it? This was Gregor Clegane's work."

Youmu's eyes widened at the declaration. Her head was filled with thoughts that moved too fast to contemplate as she pictured Ser Gregor cutting down helpless smallfolk and letting his men rape and burn whomever and whatever they wanted. It made sense why so many suddenly seemed so afraid. They just came down here to declare to the Hand and king that Tywin Lannister's bannerman, Gregor Clegane, was a butcher who turned rogue.

Grand Maester Pycelle rose ponderously from the council table, his chain of office clinking. "Ser Marq, with respect, you cannot know that this outlaw was Ser Gregor. There are many large men in the realm."

"As large as the Mountain That Rides?" Ser Karyl said. "I have never met one."

"My lord Hand," Pycelle declared in a stiff voice, "I urge you to remind this good knight that Lord Tywin Lannister is the father of our own gracious queen."

"Thank you, Grand Maester Pycelle," Ned said. "I fear we might have forgotten that if you had not pointed it out."

Youmu's eyes went to the far end of the hall and saw several silently leave, most likely to hide from what was to come, or to report to the queen what was being said. She had a feeling that several of these people were going to end up dead before long.

She studied the rest of the crowd as the conversation continued, though she tuned it out. Youmu saw people whispering to each other, writing things down on parchment, and quietly exiting. She even saw the King's Justice, Ilyn Payne, staring holes into Lord Stark the entire conversation.

Eddard stood up with what seemed like a heavy heart, and declared that Clegane was to be stripped of his knighthood, lands, titles, and income. He was also to be executed, and though Ned wished to do the deed himself, he was needed here as Hand until Robert returned.

He dispatched Thoros of Myr, Ser Gladden, Lord Lothar, and Lord Beric, along with twenty of his own household guard and twenty from each man, to Ser Gregor's keep with Ned's decree.

"Ride at first light. These things are best done quickly." He held up a hand. "The throne will hear no more petitions today."

Youmu watched everyone else filter out before she joined Ned's side at the throne, though Varys lingered as well. "You are a bolder man than I, my lord," the eunuch said softly.

"How so, Lord Varys?"

"By not including Ser Ilyn in the band of men you sent out for Ser Gregor." His voice was soft as his words danced along his lips.

"I'm sure he'll get over his disappointment." Ned's voice had a hint of disdain towards the executioner, though it was more directed to the office as opposed to the man himself.

"But he's the king's justice," Varys pointed out. "Sending other men to do his work might seem like a grave offense."

"No slight was intended. The Paynes are bannermen to House Lannister, I merely didn't want a conflict of interest."

Varys turned to Ned with a smile on his face. "Very prudent, no doubt. Still, I see Ser Ilyn staring at us in the back, and I must say he does not look pleased. You do know how much he loves his work."

Ned watched Youmu going over the book of Westerosi dynasties and families. The last book that Jon Arryn was reading before he died. She frowned and pulled away. "Well aside from the bad handwriting, nothing seems terribly out of place."

The man took several bites of his dinner before speaking up. "I was wondering the same thing. I can't find any irregularities in both the book and in Robert's bastards."

Youmu had opted not to eat at the moment, and his daughters had both stormed off to their rooms after being told they were leaving the capital. Arya was a little less unhappy when she found out Youmu would be returning with them, but Sansa was completely distraught with grief over losing her match with Joffrey.

The half-phantom shook her head and sighed. "Was there anything you noticed about the bastard children that looked out of place?"

"Not at all." He took a swig of his iced milk, "they all bore a striking resemblance to Robert as they ought to." Ned saw Youmu's eyes widen and she began to quickly, but carefully flip through the pages to the Baratheon family tree.

Youmu's mouth went dry as she read the entries.

ROBERT BARATHEON, BLACK OF HAIR

JOFFREY BARATHEON, GOLDEN HAIRED

"Sansa made an observation that Joffrey wasn't like his father," she started. "Maybe she accidentally meant that in more ways than one."

The realization dawned on Ned. "By the gods…" He trailed off, speechless as to how he missed it.

The pair did more reading into the genealogy of both Baratheon and Lannister, and it took them reading several decades, almost a century back, till they found a marriage between the two families again, and the children that were born of those marriages were black-haired. Joffrey was the one exception with golden hair and green eyes just like his mother.

Youmu's lips curled in disgust and she looked away from the book. "Incest, huh? I know royalty did it in the past where I'm from, but it eventually produced heirs that simply weren't...fit to rule."

"The Targaryens wed brother and sister for centuries as well, and several of those children nearly tore the realm apart, with Aerys being the last. But the realm and the Faith of the Seven generally frown upon siblings breeding."

"And it seems that Cersei and Jaime have done so right under the entire realm's nose." Youmu frowned and leaned against the wall.

"Indeed. Robert must be told." Ned stood.

She looked over at him, "He's still hunting and won't be back for another day or two."

"Which will give the queen and her children time to flee as far from here as possible."

Youmu shot him a look. "...You aren't seriously going to tell her, are you?" She was shocked, and anger flashed in her face.

"Of course I am. I will not have Cersei and her children die the way Ellia and her children did."

"Ned." She used his first name and dropped all honorifics now. "Don't be a fool and let her make the first move."

"It's the honorable- '' She cut him off as she advanced to his desk.

"Is it an honorable thing to give your opponent the knife to slit your throat?" She was glaring at him now.

"I'll have the city guard on our side, along with what remains of my household guard, and maybe even the kingsguard. Cersei won't have time to make a move." His voice was adamant, and he was nearly glaring at the gardener in turn.

Youmu rolled her eyes and moved back. "Damnit, Ned!" She looked back at the Hand of the King, "How do you know you'd even have the gold cloaks with you?"

"Littlefinger promised me that he would help me as a favor for my wife, and I trust his word at this point."

"Then you're a bigger fool than I thought." Youmu turned to leave in a huff, but Ned called out for her once more.

"Wait, Lady Youmu, please."

She stopped and turned around to face him again. "Yes, Lord Stark?"

"Promise me that if anything bad does happen, you'll keep my daughters safe."

Youmu was silent for a moment and frowned. "I…" she trailed off, "will try my best.

It was close to eight months since she'd arrived in King's Landing, and she hadn't been able to make any progress toward getting home. While she did discover a way to speak to dead relatives, Eddard turned it down when she proposed the idea to him in private. She asked why, but the glare he gave her told her everything that words would not.

Now? She was being brought to the king's chambers. Robert suffered what may be a fatal injury while hunting a boar, and won't make it through the night, or at least that's what Pycelle told her.

With a heavy heart she entered the room and gasped at the sight and condition Robert was in. He was splayed across his bed with the blankets over his lower body. A green doublet lay on the floor, slashed open and discarded, the cloth crusted with red-brown stains. The room smelled of smoke, blood, and death.

She saw the king's brother, Renly, pacing anxiously back and forth. The queen, Cersei, sat at Robert's side worriedly stroking his right hand. The steward announced Youmu's presence and she was allowed in.

"Come...closer," he spoke.

Youmu's breath was caught in her throat, but she listened and approached the dying man. "You called, Your Grace?"

Robert's voice choked as he spoke in reply. "Aye," he started, "I'm...sorry you were unable to find a way home, my lady."

She gave a brief smile. "I, well, I'm sure there are ways, Your Grace." Youmu leaned down to Robert's side and frowned.

"And I'll...be seeing Lyanna soon, I figure."

"That's a possibility, yes."

"My lady...tell me," Robert coughed violently and shuddered. "Where do we go when we die?"

Youmu blinked and fidgeted just a little. That was certainly a question to ask. It wasn't one she received often in Gensokyo. Westeros was different, wasn't it? She frowned. "Well, people who die in the land I visit get sent to a judge, and that judge will either send you to Heaven, Hell, or reincarnation." She studied Robert's eyes, "if I may be honest, Your Grace, I...don't think you'll be going to Heaven."

The king laughed and coughed and wheezed. "Haha, I figured as much with all the whoring I've done," he smiled faintly at Youmu. "I'm glad that you at least told me."

Renly moved towards the half-phantom and handed her a letter sealed with House Baratheon's stag. Youmu hesitantly took it, opened it, and read through it. Her eyes widened at the contents of the letter and she looked to Robert, whose breathing had become haggard now.

"I-," she started. "You're allowing me to stay here till I find a way to return home?"

"Aye." Robert said before he coughed heavily with blood being spat on his beard, "You're one-of-a-kind, my lady." He smiled faintly and continued, "I don't want any harm to come of you."

Her words were caught in her throat. She didn't dare tell Robert that she was returning to Winterfell with Ned. At the same time, however, it would be very convenient to be able to come and go from the Red Keep as needed. Youmu sighed softly and gripped the man's hand with her own cold limb. "I thank you, Your Grace. I'll make sure this comes to use."

Robert watched her stand and bow respectfully. "Now get on out of here. You don't want to watch a king die." He shoo'd her out, and Renly followed behind her out the door.

She was in Maegor's holdfast, the most inner sanctum of the Red Keep, and the home of the royal apartments. Once out on the bridge connecting the Keep to the holdfast, she turned to Renly and held up her letter. "I'd like this copied, Lord Renly."

He looked amused as he held his hands behind his back. "Would you, now?" He asked, "might I ask why you'd want a duplicate?"

"Paper is so very thin, my lord, and all it takes is someone ripping through it for its words to be invalidated." She walked along with him towards the entrance of the keep where Ser Boros Blount was standing guard. His white armor gleamed in the pale moonlight of the late night.

Renly smiled. "I see. Smart." He dipped his head as Youmu reached the entrance to the keep, "I will have a copy delivered to you in the morning, my lady."

"Thank you, my lord." Youmu nodded to him and turned back into the keep. She was walking towards her room with a heavy heart, the letter crinkled in her grip.

As she was just about to turn the corner to go down the hallway to the council room, she spotted Ned Stark being escorted. Her eyebrow raised, and her frown crept back on her face. "My lord."

The man turned to look at her with a nod, then he noticed her frown. "Did something happen, Lady Konpaku?"

Youmu bit her lip and managed a nod. "Yes," she began. "If you have anything to tell or say to the king...now would be the time." The gardener dipped her head. "I must get ready for departure. I have a last lesson with Arya and then she'll be ready to leave as well."

Ned nodded then resumed walking with the steward and his guard. Youmu resumed as well, and once she was in her room, she found her table taken up by a man sitting in front of her. "And what brings you to my chambers this late, Lord Baelish?"

Littlefinger stood with that impish smile of his on his face and gleaming cat-like eyes. "The same business that awoke you this late at night, my lady."

The gardener frowned and closed the door. She sighed and shook her head. "Several months here and I was no closer to helping Robert than when I arrived."

"Indeed. I'm sure he was understanding though with how rare such powerful magic is here in Westeros."

"He was," she eyed him suspiciously. "What truly brings you by tonight?"

His smile seemed to widen. "Lord Stark has informed you of his investigation?"

"He has, and I'm going to assume he informed you that Robert's children are not his?"

"Yes. And I'm here to give you some incentive to act with him."

"What do you mean? He hasn't told me what he plans to do." A lie, but a secret best kept from Littlefinger.

"No doubt that our Good King Robert will name Ned the Protector of the Realm, but in order for him to do that, he'll need the City Guard on his side...and you, my lady."

Youmu's eyes narrowed just a moment as she thought of that. Yes, Cersei most likely won't go quietly if Eddard chose to seize power from her and her children since he decided to tell her what he was going to do. Robert's death complicated things of course, but if Ned really was going to be Protector of the Realm at least until Joffrey was of age, then it'll be a rather brutal power struggle with how many Lannister men were here in the keep alone.

Renly most likely had a hundred or so of his own guards, but something told her that he wasn't going to be of much help.

She looked over to Littlefinger once more. "I swore that I wouldn't take a side in Westerosi politics, Lord Baelish."

"But haven't you already done so? You humiliated Jaime Lannister and butchered his men." He snorted, "that's an insult neither he nor his sister will soon forget."

"I...my reasoning for fighting Ser Jaime and his men is simply because they were acting like thugs and needed to be taught a lesson." Youmu scoffed and moved to the window in her room, "and I plan on being long gone before any fighting occurs if it does."

"Is that so? Pray tell, where do you plan on going, my lady?"

She turned to him with a shrug. "I was thinking of Essos. Asshai or Yi Ti specifically due to the apparently powerful magic in those regions." Another lie.

Petyr looked impressed. "Such a long way from Westeros. I wish you safe travels then if we don't see each other before your departure."

The gardener dipped her head. "Of course, Lord Baelish. I wish we'd have gotten to know each other a bit more." Youmu watched his lips curl just a bit.

"Nonsense, Lady Youmu," he started. "That look in your eyes is full of mistrust, and if I were to hazard a guess, you'd prefer if you didn't see me ever again."

Youmu frowned now. "Let's just say that I'm used to dealing with someone who also emits an aura of 'don't trust me'. It's a little unnerving."

Littlefinger's smile increased, and he let out a chuckle. "That's good, my lady. Not trusting me is one of the few smart ideas in King's Landing."

"Low."

Arya moved her wooden sword down to deflect a blow directed to her feet.

"Left. Right. Low. High." Youmu's blows were as precise as an expert swordsman would be in such a situation, and the added weight of the actual swords at her left side did nothing to slow her down.

Arya's stance had her knees bent at ninety degrees and steadily advancing backwards away from Youmu in the Small Hall while she continued to clack and rack her "sword" against her sensei's.

"Left. Left. High. Left. Right. Left. Low. Left!" Except Youmu's last strike went right.

The tip of the sword caught Arya in her ribs and she fell back on her backside. She glared up at the half-phantom. "Ow!" There'd definitely be a bruise on her right side by the time she went to bed tonight.

Youmu smirked. "You're dead."

"You cheated."

"And you're still dead."

"But you lied!"

"My words lied, but if you were following my eyes and hands, you'd have seen the blow coming."

"But I was watching!"

Youmu's smirk remained, finding the girl's anger cute. "Watching is not the same as seeing."

The gardener collected the wooden sword from Arya, "opening your eyes is sometimes all that's needed. Your heart can lie to you and your mind can play tricks on you, but your eyes will always be true. Always be sure to hear with your ears, feel with your skin, and taste with your mouth. Thinking can come second."

"Yes, sensei." Arya got up and bowed respectfully to her teacher, who had a smile on her face now.

"I'm thinking that when we get to Winterfell, it'll be time to give you some fencing lessons with your Needle."

"Yes!" Arya was ecstatic. "I can't wait to show Jon-"

Behind Arya, the doors to the small hall flew open violently, and she whirled to see the source of the sound.

Youmu was already facing the doors, and was surprised to see Ser Boros Blount, Ser Meryn Trant, and five Lannister guards. The two kingsguard wore their plain white armor, while the Lannister men wore mail over boiled leather and steel caps with lion crests.

"Arya Stark," the knight said, "come with us, child."

Arya chewed her lip. "What do you want?"

"Your father wants to see you."

Arya moved forward, but Youmu grabbed her by the arm. "And why would Lord Stark send you and Lannister men instead of his own?"

"Mind your place, foreign ghost," Meryn spat. "This is of no concern to you."

"My father wouldn't send you!" Arya grabbed her stick, and the others laughed.

"Put down the stick, girl," Ser Meryn told her. "I am a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard, the White Swords."

"So was the kingslayer when he killed the old king," Arya said. "I don't have to go with you if I don't want to."

Ser Meryn Trant ran out of patience. "Take her," he said to his men. He lowered the visor of his helm.

Three of the men advanced towards Arya, but were stopped by Youmu's second half when it moved to float in front of the Stark girl. "That's far enough. If Lord Stark wants his daughter, he can come see me instead."

"Out of the way, whore." One of the Lannister men shouted.

Youmu's training sword moved lightning fast and clashed against the man's mail-covered chest. "My name is Konpaku Youmu. Youmu. Youmu. It's not hard to learn or say, you dull, inbred bastard."

"You foreign slut!" The same man moved for his longsword, but Youmu was faster, and smacked his fingers with her sword. She'd moved away from Arya, and now had her other half floating in front of the other girl protectively. "My hand," the man cried out as he held his broken fingers with his good hand.

"Kill the ghost and take the Stark girl!" Ser Meryn commanded.

The remaining four guards drew their swords, and the man with broken fingers drew a dagger with his left hand.

Youmu spared a glance to Arya. "Run to your father, Arya." She kept the wooden sword in her hand.

Arya shook her head vehemently. "No, I'm not leaving you!"

The gardener slid into a shin no kamae position and frowned. "Then turn around and close your eyes until I tell you otherwise, child."

Arya moved all the way to the wall and closed her eyes and turned around.

Once she was satisfied that her student wasn't going to be witness to the eventual carnage, Youmu sprung into action. The guards came at her from three sides. Youmu crouched down low and sent a sudden thrust upward at the man to her left, which caused her sword to connect with his Adam's apple.

Ser Meryn had never seen a woman move with such speed and grace. Youmu's next strike was a high swing that was aimed much higher by the gardener doing a spinning jump, which caused the sword to crack down on the collarbone of a guard directly in front of her. She spun, kicking another's legs out from under him and brought the heel of her boot down on his nose with a sickening crunch. The two men hollered and howled in pain as they crumpled and remained on the ground.

She was left with only two more, but her training sword was structurally compromised, so she ditched it and gripped the hilt of Roukanken. The man with the broken fingers and the dagger in his left hand rushed her. Youmu unsheathed, side-stepped, and swung up, then down, removing his hand and then forearm below the elbow. Blood sprayed on her and her blade as the man flew forward to the floor with his own momentum. She advanced on the final guard.

Fear flashed in his eyes. She snorted. He was smart to feel fear, but stupid to not turn and run. She'd have let him live if he did so. He'd begun a powerful overhead chop, but it never connected as Youmu just...appeared, with a sword right through his mail, his heart, and his body. He died before the gardener pulled her blade out.

Ser Meryn was worried, and Ser Boros was visibly shaken by the display of carnage he just saw. Youmu turned to face the remaining kingsguard and pointed her bloody weapon at the pair. "I will let you two live since you're kingsguard, and your duty is to protect your king, which you can't do if you're dead." Were her eyes red? They were.

It took the knight a moment to speak, but while his hand gripped his longsword, he and Boros were backing back to the doors. "The king will hear of this!"

Youmu smirked. "See that he does."

They ran. They had to. They were running and sneaking and hiding as much as they could so they could get to the stables.

Youmu and Arya fled shortly after Meryn and Boros left the small hall, and now they found themselves sneaking through every shadow in the castle. Arya frowned. "Where are we going to go?" The poor nine year old was terrified.

The gardener let out a sigh as they got closer and closer to the stables. "We'll try to get out of the city, but first we'll be finding an inn while I plan out what we do next."

"What about my father?" The sounds of steel on steel echoed faintly in the halls. The pair had come across Stark men, Baratheon men, and Lannister men dead on the ground. It seemed that the Stark and Baratheon men fought side by side and died all the same.

Youmu was silent as the two crept into the stables. "...I'll find a way to get him out."

"What if he's dead?"

She froze, then looked at the girl. "Then I will avenge his death. You didn't ask about your sister."

"She's probably drinking wine and laughing with her beloved Joffrey and Queen Cersei." Arya's words were venom.

The pair stepped into the stables and Youmu quickly began saddling a horse. Arya found a turned over cart and several more Stark stewards laying dead beside it, but upon digging through it, she found two cloaks and...Needle! The little girl quickly grabbed her small sword and clutched it as if it were the only thing that existed in this world now.

Youmu appeared with a black mount and frowned. "Ah…"

Arya turned to her teacher. "I'll need to protect myself as well."

"So you will." Youmu's smile seemed proud, but sad at the same time. So young and being forced into such a horrible situation.

The Stark girl perked up as she threw a cloak over herself. "What if the castle gate is closed?"

The gardener frowned while doing the same, only this time she had her phantom half slip under the cloak to give her small frame the appearance of a hunchback woman. "I doubt it. They aren't expecting anyone to get away."

"Except for us."

Youmu scowled and was silent for a minute. "If it comes to it, I'll fight our way out. Just stick close to me."

The pair climbed onto the horse with Arya sitting side-saddle in front of Youmu as the gardener walked their mount to the gate. She looked up at the gold cloaks of the city guard while they quietly slipped out of the Red Keep's walls. So far, so good.

It was mid-day by the time the pair reached Flea Bottom. Gold Cloaks roamed through the streets looking for both Arya and Youmu, though without knowing what the Stark girl looked like, they'd have to rely on the exotic sight of the half-phantom. Youmu did her best to conceal her looks as best she could with a procured cloak and hood and her other half hiding underneath to give her the appearance of a hunchbacked old woman with her granddaughter.

This is humiliating. Youmu scowled after they ditched the horse near the edge of the slums of King's Landing as not only were the streets too narrow, but it would draw too much attention.

Flea Bottom smelled horrible. Death, rotting flesh, feces, urine, and other unspeakable things permeated the air that nearly made Youmu drop dead from the first whiff of the scent, but she forced herself to press on with a tight grip on Arya's left hand. The goal was to find an inn to stay in until it was safe to leave the city, and with her coin purse in her belt, she'd have enough gold to stay for a week if not more.

The pair walked for what seemed like hours until they came upon an inn that would suit their needs. It looked nice by Flea Bottom standards, but it still reeked of feces when they entered the main tavern.

There didn't seem to be any smallfolk waiting or sitting in the tavern, which was strange, but Youmu attributed that to lack of guests and visitors on this part of town, but thankfully the innkeeper looked at the pair, a hunch-backed woman and a small child, with curiosity instead of suspicion. The gardener hobbled her way up to the counter and cleared her throat to put on her best 'old woman voice'

"Hello, m'lord." She started, "me and my grand daughter are lookin' fer a place to stay fer a few days." Youmu dropped a few silver coins on the counter for payment.

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow before he took the coins to examine their condition. After a minute he shrugged and put the coins under the counter and nodded to the duo. "Aye, there's a room on the third floor for the both of ye." He dropped a key that had "302" etched into the metal.

Youmu quickly took the key before dropping one more silver coin and muttered in thanks. "And we'll be needing a bath, m'lord."

The innkeeper laughed. "As do I, m'lady, but we don't have such luxuries 'ere in Flea bott'm."

The gardener cursed under her breath before she sighed and nodded. "Very well, then consider the coin as payment to tell no one that we're in room 302." She then turned, grabbed Arya's wrist, and pulled her up the stairs next to the innkeeper's counter. On their way up, they saw two children sitting in the hallways of the second and third floors. Youmu found it quite strange that they'd be there, especially when the one on the third floor scampered off when the pair passed him.

She unlocked the room, glanced around it, then quietly shut and closed the door to leave Arya and herself alone in a quiet room. Rain had already begun falling again, which made pitter-patter noises on the roof above them. Youmu lit the candles placed throughout the room and let out a tired, relieved sigh. They were safe at last.

Arya hadn't said a single word since they left the Red Keep. The poor girl just seemed content to let herself be dragged and pulled around by the half-phantom until they came to rest in the inn. Slowly, she advanced on her teacher and hugged her tightly from behind.

It startled Youmu, but she soon turned around and hugged Arya in return, placing her arms around the Stark girl's head before her cold fingers moved through the messy brown hair. "We'll be okay. We'll get your father soon, Arya." It didn't take very long for the nine year old to start sobbing and weeping into the gardener's belly.

The first day passed without incident, and the second day started with a haircut. Not for Youmu, but Arya. It sadly wasn't done in a bath, but it had to be done regardless. Arya hated it. She hated everything about where she was and why she was here. She wanted to be with her father, Jory, anyone from home, even Sansa! Instead she was subjected to a crude and sudden haircut from her teacher.

"They're looking for Arya, not Arry," Youmu reasoned. "They're looking for a girl who looks like a Stark, not a boy on a trip with his grandmother." She stated.

Even Youmu had done a disguise for her hair, using dirt, mud, and anything black to darken its natural color. The gardener now looked sufficiently old, dirty, and gray/black with her hair with bags under her eyes. Those weren't from the crude makeup, but instead from staying up for the majority of the night to keep watch for anyone spying on them.

Arya's stomach growled, which alerted the tired Youmu to her charge. She sighed. "Right. You need to eat."

"So do you." The girl replied as she clutched her belly.

"Yeah. Yeah I do." Youmu's brow had been forced into a permanent scowl, but she closed her eyes and sighed again. "Let's go find some food, shall we?"

Flea Bottom was busy, even with the news going around that the King was in dire condition and that his best friend had just tried overthrowing him. That pissed Arya off. Her father would never do that! It was all lies. The Queen's men attacked her and Youmu first!

It infuriated her so much that she shouted at one of the news-givers on the street. "Liar!" Arya shouted in her shrill voice.

The newsman paused and smiled at the 'boy' in front of him. "Wha's wrong, boy?" He said with malice in his voice, "You dun believe the words that came from the Queen 'erself?"

"The Queen's a liar!"

She suddenly felt a tug backward by Youmu, who bowed profusely. "My apologies, m'lord. My grandson here doesn't know how to conduct himself in public at times."

"But he's lying!"

"Alls I speak is the truth that the Gold Cloaks tells me, and they tells me that the 'and of the King turned against his own best friend!"

Arya was furious with the man and was just about to throw herself at him when she was grabbed by the half-phantom with a firm, iron grip. "Come, Arry, we best be goin' now!" She muttered in Arya's ear as the girl was dragged to the nearest food stand.

They sat on the ground to eat their bowl of brown. Arya was glaring down into the disgusting smelling food. It was Youmu who spoke up in a hushed tone. "You need to keep low, Arya." A frown was on the other girl's lips as well.

"If a gold cloak walks by and suspects you to be Arya Stark, they'd try to make a grab for you."

"You'd protect me…" Arya trailed off and sipped the bowl. The taste was something that she couldn't quite pin down, but it was nothing like the delicious food she was used to in the Red Keep.

"I'd do my best, but even if I fight one off, they'd all be on top of us in an instant. Just...be quiet. Sometimes the truth needs to wait before being told."

Arya was silent for another minute before responding. "...Fine."

"I understand you're angry, and that you feel powerless. I know the feeling all too well." Especially when she experienced her own trauma when she was around Arya's age. "But your father would want you to get to safety instead of making a scene to defend his honor. Sometimes doing nothing is the best course of action."

After that, both fell silent until their meals were finished. Youmu got up and hobbled along with Arya in her best imitation of an 'old person walk'. Occasionally, she'd look behind them. Something must have caught Youmu's eye, as she hobbled faster until they returned to the inn, but not before Youmu shot a look down the street one more time before dipping into their hideaway.

"What was it?" Arya asked, suddenly nervous.

"I thought I saw someone following us." Is all Youmu said when they returned to their room. The gardener hung the robe that was allowing her to appear as a hunchbacked woman and sat down on the straw-stuffed bed. She turned to Arya.

"Get some sleep," her teacher said while her arms crossed and she turned to glance out the single window so she could keep watch.

Youmu soon decided to grab a drink from the tavern downstairs, and left the room. The ale in her throat burned, but it quenched her thirst for the time being, but her thoughts wandered and contemplated her actions that lead to her situation.

Then it hit her. If she'd agreed to help Ned, she and Arya wouldn't be having to hide in Flea Bottom. Youmu scowled into the black liquid in her mug and left the tavern after only consuming half of her drink. She hobbled back up the stairs to her room where her legs gave way. A hand moved through her messy dirty hair as a choked sob left her own throat, but before she could continue her pity party, she heard a voice call out to her.

"Sensei?" Her eyes turned to see Arya awake and alert, and eyes filled with worry. "Where did you go?" She asked. "You were gone when I woke up."

The half-phantom's eyes looked away from the girl as she tried to find the words to explain where she'd been. "...Getting a drink. I saw that you were asleep so I slipped out for a little bit. Sorry if I worried you." Youmu offered a weak smile. How can I tell her that it's my fault her father was taken?

How many days had passed now? She wasn't sure, but seeing crowds of smallfolk in Flea Bottom flock towards the edge of the slum sparked her curiosity. Youmu threw on her cloak, donned her hunch backed appearance, and looked to Arya.

"I think something's going on, Arry." She put on her best attempt at an old woman voice and grasped her 'grandson's' hand and began hobbling out of the room and then left the inn.

When the pair arrived on the streets, all the smallfolk were shouting 'BAELOR….BAELOR!' and before long, Youmu realized that the crowd they were in was moving towards the Great Sept of Baelor. Her mental map of the city gave her a rough assumption that they were heading South.

She kept a tight grip on Arya's wrist as they moved through the crowd, and soon, more words began to be heard. 'Traitor…Stark…Joffrey'. Youmu frowned. Why would the newfound King be at the sept? Coronation? The thoughts rattled through her brain the entire time as her and Arya moved with the crowd.

"Where are we going?" Asked Arya. "What's happening?"

"I don't know, but we're about to find out soon enough." Youmu turned to the girl and did her best to give her a reassuring smile, "stay close."

They soon came to the Great Sept, and soon their eyes settled on a raised platform, which held several people. Youmu's eyes narrowed from under her hood as she recognized Cersei, Joffrey, Littlefinger, Varys, Sansa Stark, Ser Ilyn Payne, and…Eddard Stark? Her eyes widened in surprise.

Lord Stark looked thinner and paler than she'd last seen him. His face was in constant pain, and his hands were behind his back, presumably chained together. His gray eyes were scanning the crowd, as if he was searching for something or someone.

Youmu and Arya soon found a statue of Baelor the Blessed and perched themselves up on the feet. Ned's eyes kept looking through the crowd, but eventually his gaze turned to the statue, and promptly froze as his eyes locked with Youmu's.

He then began to speak, but people began to shout, "What?" and "Louder!" which caused a kingsguard to prod Stark sharply, and soon everyone could hear the man's declaration.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King," he said more loudly, his voice carrying across the plaza, "and I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and men."

Treason? He hasn't committed any treason! Alarm bells were going off inside Youmu's head and an overwhelming sense of dread began to overtake her. This wasn't going to end well.

"I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend, Robert," he shouted. "I swore to defend and protect his children, yet before his blood was cold, I plotted to depose and murder his son and seize the throne for myself. Let the High Septon and Baelor the Beloved and the Seven bear witness to the truth of what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, and by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

This is wrong. The half-phantom's mouth dried just as a rock flew through the crowd and struck Eddard on the head, causing him to stumble back before a guard forced him back into position.

Arya shouted something that Youmu couldn't make out, and before she knew it, the nine year old had broken free and was doing her best to move through the crowd to get to the platform and her father.

Youmu on the other hand was frozen. She wasn't sure what to do, or if she could even free Ned from the position on the steps. Her eyes followed a man that must've been the High Septon knelt before Joffrey and Cersei.

"As we sin, so do we suffer." His voice carried much further than Ned's did. "This man has confessed his crimes in the sight of gods and men, here in this holy place." He motioned to Lord Stark, who now had blood running down his head from the rock. "The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us that they are also merciful. What shall be done with this traitor, Your Grace?"

There was a sudden barrage of stones, bricks, food, and other such things that smallfolk throw at people they're displeased with, and if it weren't for the kingsguard using their shields to deflect, Joffrey and his entourage might've been injured.

King Joffrey stepped out from around the shield wall and held his hand up as if attempting to calm the people, and to Youmu's surprise, it worked. His own shrill voice spoke. "My mother bids me let Lord Eddard take the black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father."

The boy King looked at his betrothed with a small, fond smile, and seemed to be contemplating his next words with the severity and weight they had. "But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished."

Joffrey turned back to Ned Stark with venom and hatred in both his eyes and words. "Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

The crowd exploded into an uproar of demands for mercy, and demands for blood. The half-phantom's jaw dropped as her eyes locked with Ned's once more. He seemed to have noticed that Arya was missing, and looked confused for a moment before he was shoved down to his knees and bent over.

Sansa was in hysterics, Cersei was muttering something to her son, and both the Septon and Varys had rushed over to the King as a last minute appeal for the lord's life.

No, no, he can't. She had to do something. Anything. Youmu was about to leap off the statue and into the crowd to get to the raised platform, but then she saw Ilyn Payne and the massive black great sword Ice being raised high.

Her eyes couldn't move. Couldn't turn away. She'd hoped that Joffrey would change his mind at the final second, but no reprieve came.

Ice came down, and Youmu's ears were filled with a ringing so loud that it drowned the entire world out.

If I stood by him, this wouldn't have happened.

And that's this chapter! Wow I can't believe that it's been nearly a year since I've updated this. I do apologize deeply for kinda just dropping off the face of the Earth for a bit there, but both last year and this year have been incredibly busy for me. I'm going to do my best to update regularly once more, especially now that we're finally leaving King's Landing.

Speaking of that. We'll be going on a bit of a detour in the next chapter, and hopefully introduce Yuyuko into the story.