The days and nights were endless, not that he could tell one from another. There was a slow drip somewhere in the dark, a steady splash against stone that was at times hypnotic and others maddening.
He marked the days by Arya's evening visits. While he was worried she might be discovered, he was selfishly desperate for her company.
She would bring him extra scraps of food and water that staved off the stomach cramps which surely would have come with the meager meals he was provided and she gave him news of the outside world.
When he fretted about whether or not she was getting enough to eat, she would brush off his concern, insisting she knew how to get her fill from the kitchens.
As Tywin's cupbearer, she was privy to some of his most secret council meetings. They knew what Robb was planning, but thus far, he had not learned about what Jon had done to his eldest son and heir.
Jon worried about his little sister surviving in such a hostile and unfriendly place, scrawny thing that she was, slipping around vicious and violent men. She assured him every day that she was fine, that she was able to take care of herself but he found himself feeling relieved every evening when she visited and he could see she was unharmed.
When Arya would go, he'd visit Dany, and she would wrap him in wholehearted embraces, and her sweet murmurs, ones he couldn't understand, sustained him. She smelled of sweat and sunshine more and more and he'd noticed light bruising about her arms. He concluded she must be training with the Mormont sisters, preparing to come to his rescue like a Targaryen queen of old.
The long days without the company of his wife or sister were the hardest and he drifted in and out of consciousness.
One day he was startled awake by heavy footsteps and torchlight that seemed as bright as the sun. His legs felt weak beneath him as he was pulled to his feet and returned to irons.
The sunlight flooding the courtyard was blinding and he squeezed his eyes shut as he was lead down a familiar path.
He took in the sights around him differently than before, after what seemed like an eternity in the dark. Even the gloomy halls of Harrenhal seemed radiant and inviting.
His stomach turned in knots despite himself as he was again led before Lord Tywin. The old lion remained focused on parchment in front of him as Jon was seated in the chair before his desk.
Jon had never appreciated a chair more in his life as he waited for Tywin to take notice of him.
The enticing smell of mutton stew had his mouth-watering as a servant placed a steaming bowl on Tywin's desk. Jon's eyes grew wide when he realized the servant was Arya. She gave him a dark look before she left silently the way she came.
Tywin began speaking without looking up from his work. "You've been in that cell for a fortnight now."
Jon couldn't take his eyes off the stew. "Have I? It's hard for me to tell one day from the next."
"Have you reconsidered my earlier offers?"
Too fatigued to feel angry, he sighed. "I won't betray my family. No matter how long I'm kept in that cell."
Tywin looked up at him then. "I suppose you think that's honorable, what your father would do. Tell me, how has your family been faring since his death? What price will your pregnant wife pay for your honor?"
Jon's heart raced at the implication and he dreaded to find out what else he may have learned.
Tywin pushed a blank parchment and quill toward him. "Write to your brother. Encourage him to accept my generous offer. Maester Tothmure informs me that we have enough food stores to last a little more than a year, far longer if we limit rations. How long will your brother's army last?"
The sight of the clean parchment had Jon shaking his head before he locked eyes with Tywin. "Harrenhal was once a great fortress, built to withstand any attack from land... but not from the air. Harren the Black learned that, so will you."
Tywin regarded him cooly. "We both know your dragons are far too young to carry out such an attack, far too small to ride. Dragons need riders."
When Jon didn't reply again, Tywin signaled his guards and spoke calmly, returning dutifully to the work before him."Take him back to the dungeon. He would prefer the company of rats to his bride. A bastard is used to punishment, I'm sure."
Dany stood at the base of a rocky bluff watching her fiercest child ascend to its peak. Her hands were clasped together in front of her but she was squeezing them together tightly.
Time was running out. Every day they drew nearer to Harrenhal and if she wasn't ready, if she were to fail, she could lose everything.
Her eyes were trained on him as he touched down atop its highest point and she held her breath until he shot out a wave of bright orange flame.
She blew out a breath and smiled as she closed her eyes to the heavens.
Robb's approach startled her but she laughed anyway, feeling more hopeful than she had for some time.
"You've done it! Tywin is going to be quaking in his boots."
She laughed again and called out praise to her son as he made his way back to her.
"I haven't seen you smile in ages."
Dreamfyre landed before her and she no longer had to bend down to pet his snout. She saw Robb take a step back, and not as subtly as he would have liked.
"There's something to smile about now. Although this is nothing compared to the height of the towers of Harrenhal from what you've described."
"I have complete faith in you. We don't need to melt their castle, we only need to terrorize them. He can do that well enough."
Dany crossed her arms. "This will put Dreamfyre at great risk."
"He looks like he can handle himself now."
Another disquieting thought entered her mind and she turned to face him. "Robb, if the Mountain is there, he'll come for me. I know it."
He tried to look confident but she saw the brief flicker of concern in his eyes. "I'll make sure you're well guarded. He can't defeat every man in my army."
Robb studied the bluff. "If we engage in battle, you just make sure you're on a horse. A quick one. He is powerful but he's slow."
The relief of the day had turned back into fear and torment as she sat staring at the glowing embers of her brazier. No matter how many times Dreamfyre had scaled the bluff that afternoon and scorched its rocky surface, it didn't make anything easier.
It was not lost on her that she would be putting her child in harm's way. If she lost him, what would she and Jon do then? What kind of life could they give their son?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a call at her door, and she blinked in surprise when she found Lady Stark on the other side of her doorway. She resisted the urge to scowl before she motioned her to come inside.
As they sat before the warmth of her brazier, Dany searched for words to make small talk when Lady Stark gave her a direct look and broke the silence.
"You're not fond of me, and that I understand."
Dany narrowed her eyes, her chest beginning to feel heavy. "Do you?"
Lady Stark looked at her earnestly with the same striking blue eyes as Robb. "How could you be? I've always considered myself to be loving and loyal, but not where he is concerned. Never with Jon Snow."
Dany felt fury begin to coil around her heart.
Lady Stark had the grace to look ashamed. "I know it is hateful. I know it offends the Mother that I could not bring myself to love a motherless child, but that is my failing."
"Quite a failing indeed, My Lady. Why have you come?"
"I'm returning to Winterfell on the morrow. I'm needed there more than here. My son understands the strategies of war but I'm afraid the intricacies of politics are lost on him. You have his ear and you have Jon's ear.
"Robb has made a promise to Lord Frey, but if he is successful in besting Tywin, a stronger alliance will be necessary. Walder Frey is ruthless and cunning, but he will not retaliate if he thinks he cannot win."
"What do you suggest?"
"The Tyrell's are a wealthy house with a recently widowed daughter. If an alliance can be forged, it will weaken Tywin as much as it will strengthen us."
Dany nodded. "I wish well on your journey north."
Dany was hunched over a cyrvasse board across from Robb, waiting for him to finally take his turn so she could make her move and win the game. Again.
This had become a bit of a ritual. They'd ride all day, she'd train her dragons and with the Mormonts when they'd camp while Robb studied his maps and made plans. Then late in the evening, he would keep her company with numerous matches of cryvasse.
She appreciated the effort. Given how terrible he was at the game, it was clear it was not a pastime he would have chosen otherwise.
When her turn came, she swiftly removed his dragon from the board with her trebuchet.
He groaned. "I can't believe it. You won again."
She didn't bother to contain her satisfied smirk. "I did."
Robb grimaced and shook his head at her while she laughed.
"I want a rematch."
She snickered as they began to reset the elephants, horses, and kings about the board. "This is fun. I always wanted this."
Robb barked out a laugh."What? To so terribly wound a man's pride?"
"No. To have family." She felt heat rise to her cheeks. "Good family."
His hands stilled for a moment and he grinned at her. "Aye, there's nothing like that. It's not all good times, though. Then there's flinging food at each other in the dining hall and hiding sheep shit in bedding."
"What?" She snorted. "That's not true."
"You haven't met Arya."
She began to feel bashful for what she was about to confess. "Do you know what I thought when we first met? I thought you were handsome and kind, like my brother Rhaegar was said to be. I hoped maybe I could have a brother in you."
He smiled at her in a way that had her studying the pieces in front of her. "Well, Dany, I'll admit when I first saw you, I wasn't thinking about being your brother."
They both laughed.
"But you are my family now. I saw how much you meant to Jon, how you make him happy. Jon was never really happy."
Her heart ached with guilt. "Robb, I have to tell you something-"
"Dany, don't."
"I told Talisa about my dream... that's why she left."
Her pulse raced while she waited for him to respond.
Robb looked away and she could see him trying to suppress a torrent of emotion. "I know. Or at least I strongly suspected."
She hesitated before putting her hand over his. "I'm so sorry, Robb. I am."
He nodded and blew out a breath. "I don't like what you did... but I know you did what you thought was right. I'm not saying I forgive you, because I don't, not yet anyway, but... you're my family now and that's all that matters."
She nodded solemnly. "I guess that's where we're both at."
A sudden little jolt to her bladder had her gasping and putting her hand low on her belly. She felt for more movement but all was still.
Robb's eyes went wide. "Dany, what is it?"
"The baby. I felt him move." Unshed tears filled her eyes. "I've never felt it before. He's strong."
For a moment, she was happy like any expectant mother should be, and then a corrosive fear turned the moment black. The man who's son she carried was gone, taken from her, and he was missing this.
She didn't let her tears fall. "We have to get to Jon."
Robb took her hand and squeezed it. "We will. I promise."
Suddenly, Ghost stood up, fangs barred, a low growl rumbling from him, with his sights set on Robb.
"Ghost!," Dany gasped, putting her hands on the beast, trying to calm him down. It only seemed to make matters worse as he began to snarl.
Robb stood up slowly. "I should go."
Dany felt herself grow warm as she tried to settle Ghost while he continued to growl. "Robb, I'm so sorry."
"We'll speak tomorrow, " he told her before backing out of her tent.
Ghost grew quiet again nearly the instant he had gone and turned to look at her as if nothing were amiss. She found herself growing more incensed the longer she looked at him, and she stood abruptly to change into her bedclothes.
When he began to whine she ignored him and for the first time since Jon had gone, she did not invite him into the bed.
Tucked under her covers, she felt the bed dip when he climbed up anyway but he at least had the sense to sleep at the end.
Her anger turned to pity, and she found herself giving in and patting the space beside her. The great beast crawled to the front of the bed and looked up at her with his head on his paws.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't look at me like that. That was humiliating."
He nudged his wet nose against her hand.
She sighed. "You know me better than that, don't you?"
Even in the dead of night, from a far off distance, the expanse of Harrenhal was breathtaking and terrible. The pale moon shone down on what remained of the keeps tallest towers, stone looking melted down like candle wax.
She sat atop her grey palfrey, huddled in silence with Rickard Karstark, Smalljon Umber, Dacey and Alysane. Her children were near too, being unusually quiet, seeming to sense the need for stealth.
Red and yellow eyes appeared out of the shadows, maws stained red. The wolves had gone out before them, scouting the area for sentries before they made their approach.
There was no time left for fear or uncertainty. If there was ever a time for her to become the blood of the dragon, it was now.
Martyn of Castamere looked out over the edge of the great tower. Never in his life had he ever been up so high. The moon wasn't revealing much tonight but during the day, he imagined that surveying the land from this vantage was much like what a bird sees flying overhead.
Robb Stark's army was said to be heading their way but there was nothing to be seen but an empty expanse before them. The boy-king truly was a fool if he thought attacking this castle would do him any good. Though Harrenhal was falling apart, the walls remained higher and stronger than any castle he'd ever seen.
He'd been away from home for months and it was hard to imagine that he'd been excited to go and see some of the world. Now, all he wanted to do was return home to his father and brothers in the mines and to have some of his mother's rabbit stew.
Harrenhal was a place wretched and damned and he'd heard whispers that tortured ghosts roamed its gloomy halls. It wasn't ghosts that scared him, though. No, it was foreign fiends like Varo Hoat who raped women and chopped of the hands and feet of prisoners, and nightmare monsters like the Mountain who enjoyed torturing the smallfolk.
Yes, he couldn't wait to get home. He'd have plenty of stories to tell everyone and he was sure they would imagine his time with the Lannister Army as an adventure and not the miserable and dreary time it truly was.
A sudden wind blew through his hair, short and quick. His throat went dry and he stood perfectly still.
Martyn turned to one of the other men posted with him in the tower. "Did you feel that?"
"Feel what?"
"That wind."
"What are you-"
He heard his companion gasp as a winged black demon appeared before them. His knees began to shake and he opened his mouth to scream but found no sound would come.
In another instant, the dark sky around him was gone and then all he knew was heat, bright flame, and searing pain.
Blazing orange flames woke up the night sky along with the echoing of men's screams. He'd done it, her clever son, and now she needed him to return safely.
Smalljon Umber appeared at her side. "Why not send all three of them? Triple the damage?"
"I have the strongest connection with Dreamfyre. He will do what I ask if he is agreeable to it. For the other two, it's not the same and I can't risk them."
Another tower alight, her heart was swollen with pride but she felt just as anxious to have him back safely with her.
A sudden movement behind her made her horse nicker and she felt her stomach flip as Rhaegal tore through the sky towards the keep. She called out to him but he didn't turn back.
Dismounting quickly, she went to Viserion's side, petting him and speaking gently, fearful he would follow. Looking back to the gargantuan keep, all she could do was wait.
He came back to his weary human body, still in his wretched cell. His adrenaline was pumping, and he could almost taste the sentry's blood, the one he and Grey Wind had pulled them from his horse before he tore out his throat.
Dany. She was so close. And Robb. His brother was encouraging her to jeopardize her dragon. Using him as a weapon of war when she'd barely had a handle on him. Things would be different when he was free.
Gods, let Dreamfyre be safe.
If the dragon was able to light a few things on fire and return to Dany, it would certainly create panic within the keep.
He found himself missing the dragons as well, and he thought of Rhaegal, his scaly green shadow.
Without warning, a queer sensation began to develop at the back of his mind, barely noticeable at first until it quickly grew stronger. A sudden blinding pain, he brought his hands to the sides of his head and groaned as pressure racked his skull until he felt it might explode.
Something was pulling at his mind, willing him away, and he had no way to stop it. He cried out and lurched forward, sure he would collapse. Then all at once, the pain was gone and he was surrounded by the cold, refreshing air of night as he moved on the wind.
He was no longer contained within the castle walls but flying above them. Closer to the ruined twisted towers than he'd ever thought possible, the great lake shimmering under the moon. A burst of heat in his peripheral and he turned to see Dreamfyre breathing fire on one of the towers which had remained intact.
Quickly he realized what was happening, and set his sights on the wooden stables. He felt a sharp sting of guilt before he rained fire along the entire length of the ridge of the great structure, housing the sleeping horses. Their screams were sharp and hooves pounded in terror against the walls beginning to catch fire.
Shouts and screams and smoke and flame were all around him, as he breathed fire on every wooden thing he could see.
The food stores, he thought.
Twisting and turning through the air like he never dreamed, he felt ferocious and invincible. A roar from his brother filled him with irritation as he felt an overwhelming instinct to heed to his call.
He managed to resist long enough to engulf a wagon filled with hidden goods in flame before his brother gave a mightier roar and, unable to resist, he followed him back into the sky and away from his prison.
"Jon! Wake up!"
He could only groan in response, his head pounding like he'd had too much ale and not enough water. Finding himself sprawled out on the dirt floor, he sat up quickly wiping dirt from his face.
His vision was slightly blurred as he looked at Arya. "What is it?"
"Last night!" She spoke a little too loudly. "The dragons were here last night!"
He exhaled deeply. So it wasn't a dream.
She grabbed onto the bars and brought her face as near as she could. "They burned the towers! They burned up the stables! And Robb's army is here! You can see them from the battlements now!"
Jon closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. His heart bloomed with hope but he needed to get to Dany. He didn't want her doing this alone.
Arya handed him hard bread and cheese through the bars.
Starving he started to bring it to his mouth and then paused. "This isn't your breakfast?"
She shook her head. "Took it from the kitchens."
He ate her offering greedily.
"Jon, I'm getting you out of here."
"Arya..."
"Tonight."
"Little sister."
"Just be ready!"
"Do you expect me to pack?"
"You know what I mean. Don't go skin changing!"
He gave her a severe look. "Don't do anything stupid. I don't want you putting yourself in harm's way for me. Dany and Robb will get us out of here."
"You don't understand. I have a friend from Braavos."
"Please, Arya."
"Tonight!, " she called out the final word before dodging back into the dark.
Though it made little sense, Jon found this stretch of his stay the most frustrating. He was restless, anticipation bubbling in his stomach and spreading throughout his body.
He was sitting. He was always sitting and Arya's words were running through his head.
Be ready, be ready, be ready. I'm fucking ready.
If anything happened to her, he didn't know what he would do.
Driving himself mad, he got up and stretched his arms before pacing back and forth. He was weak and hadn't trained in weeks. A lot of use he would be.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw the old lion approach flanked by two guards in red armor.
Jon puffed up his chest as they locked eyes. "Have you come up with a third offer, then?"
"Your brother is outside the gates."
Jon felt a surge of pride. "Then I look forward to seeing him."
"Your wife as well. She set her dragons to rain down fire in the night."
"Hmm, " Jon allowed himself a smirk. "You must be worried... or else you wouldn't be here."
Tywin gave him a stony look that didn't have nearly the effect on him that it once did. "You claim to be the son of Rhaegar. He was a prince beloved by the people, no one can deny it but, his father was a perverse madman. Which one does your wife favor?"
"Her mother."
"Rhaella?" Tywin raised his eyebrows. "I doubt that very much. But for her beauty, one wouldn't even notice the forlorn queen. She'd never burn people alive. That was all King Aerys."
"Do you have a point?"
"I cannot allow the daughter of the mad king to live. Not with the power of three dragons. Reconsider my earlier offer, and I'll let her keep her life."
A quiet rage was building within him again, dangerous and unpredictable. "I don't think you have a say in her life or death."
"One way or another, our armies will clash, and in the confusion and melee, I will dispatch Ser Gregor. His singular purpose will be to bring me the body of Daenerys Stormborn, in any condition he sees fit."
Jon's throat tightened and his stomach quaked. "He couldn't get to her before. He won't get to her now."
It was Tywin's turn to look smug. "You'll find he's quite determined. Urge her to hand over the dragons and I'll let her live."
Jon only stared back and it was then he saw Tywin's cold exterior begin to melt.
He glared at Jon. "Does it not bother you? Targaryens doing the bidding of Starks?"
Jon felt his insides prickle as Tywin went on.
"You'll never be King. You were the bastard of Ned Stark and now, you're the bastard of a long-dead prince but still... It must trouble you."
Jon pulled a tight smile. "A bastard is often troubled, My Lord and yet I carry on. The fact that my uncle, Ned Stark, was able to keep me secret from you for all these years must trouble you."
Tywin gave a humorless snort. "Yes. Assuming you are who you say you are, he kept you secret all your life, and then he sent you off to the Wall for a lifetime of misery."
Tywin took a step closer. "Remember, when you are mourning the loss of your bride and unborn babe, that I offered you mercy."
Dany and Robb rode side by side to wait outside the gates to meet with Tywin on a gray morning. Rickard Karstark and the Mormonts rode beside Dany and the Umbers beside Robb.
Dany eyed Robb subtly, sitting tall, looking stern, almost angry and she adjusted her posture and tried to emulate the look of a warrior.
Her heart began to race as she heard the creak of metal, and the outer gate was raised. She gripped the leather reins of her mount tightly as she heard the heavy plodding of a great horse right before she saw the shinning plate metal of the dishonorable Ser Gregor Clegane. He was bigger than she even remembered and his great helm hid from her any sign of damage from her dragons.
Robb spoke quietly without taking his eyes off the approaching knight. "You don't have to be here, Daenerys."
"Yes, " she replied sternly. "I do."
Ser Gregor stopped three yards away, making sure to place himself in front of her. He wanted to intimidate her and she stared back at him, refusing to be affected.
She barely noticed the approach of Lord Tywin until he too was waiting across from her. He was old but looked strong and proud, an air about him that he was untouchable.
He spoke loud and clear and directly to her. "Daenerys Stormborn. You do look like your mother... but you wield fire like your father."
The implication was not lost on her but she smiled back politely. "I'd like to think I'm more effective, My Lord."
Robb broke in. "This is your chance to surrender, Lannister. Thousands need not die. Surrender and I will negotiate the safe return of your son."
Tywin looked at him as one would a pest. "Where is my son?"
"Safely guarded, My Lord. So long as my brother is safe."
Dany's heart lept. "Where is my husband?"
Tywin signaled to a pair of guards at the gate and she held her breath as they went back toward the keep. Tears stung in her eyes and her throat burned as Jon was brought forward on foot, two guards on either side of him, dragging him along. His hands were bound behind him, and he wore a gag, but as far as she could see, he was unharmed.
He was roughly dropped to his knees next to Tywin's horse and she couldn't help but suck in a breath when his dark and despairing eyes met hers.
Tywin spoke calm and clear. "Give me my son and I'll return him to you."
Her nose stung and she and Jon didn't take their eyes off of each other. "If you harm him, I will not rest until I've hunted down every last Lannister."
Tywin appeared unimpressed. "First you have to take this castle, My Lady. Our walls are the highest in all of Westeros and our food stores are plentiful. How long do you think you and your men will be able to wait outside my gates?"
Dany broke eye contact with Jon. "What about your water supply, Lord Lannister? How long will that last if you're putting out fires every night?"
She turned to Robb then. "How long can an army go without water?"
Robb's eyes were trained on Tywin. "Not long."
"Last night, " Tywin started. "You took us by surprise. We'll be ready every night hereafter."
Without warning, Tywin motioned to his guards again and Jon was being lifted back to his feet. Dany was screaming inside and she let go a breathy groan as she fought all of her instincts not to follow after him.
Her eyes remained fixed on him even as his back was to her, until he was back behind the gates, out of her reach again.
The Mountain lingered a moment longer before following after his liege lord and soon both were back behind their fortified walls.
Moments after the portcullis closed, there was a splashing noise on the wall nearest she and Robb as a slew of wet guts were heaved over. Severed pig heads hit the ground and bounced flatly, a string of intestines left dangling.
"What are they doing?, " Dany asked.
Robb gritted his teeth. "They're showing us they have food to spare."
"Good. My dragons are hungry."
Not ready to secede from the confrontation, she moved forward, surveying the watchful soldiers and archers on the battlements. She cried out in Valyrian at the top of her lungs in a voice she hardly recognized.
"Vargo Hoat! I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. You have taken my husband from me and brought him to the traitor and child murderer, Tywin Lannister. For that alone, I would kill you.
I have come to take this castle with fire and blood and I will be victorious! I offer you a gift. Your life and the lives of your riders, if you help me bring him to justice!"
Returning to her party, Robb and the others looked at her with stunned expressions.
Rickard Karstark gave her an appraising nod. "Whatever you said, he'd be a fool to refuse you, Dragon Queen."
Thrown back in his cell, Jon had begun to pace back and forth, kicking up dust and dirt in his path. He'd been so close. Close enough that he imagined he could smell the lavender in her hair, but cruel hands had held him back and he'd been powerless to fight against them.
He clenched his jaw and pulled at his hair.
The Mountain would go after her. He knew it to be true and he was locked away in the dark where he couldn't protect her.
Tired of pacing, he slumped back into his pile of straw, now flat and lifeless and closed his eyes until sleep was finally upon him.
A whisper in the dark awoke him. "Jon! Wake up! It's time."
Before he could answer, he heard the unmistakable clink of a lock, and he scrambled over to the door as it creaked open.
His little sister stood there in the shadow, eyes wild. "Arya, how?"
She stepped away and motioned for him to follow. "No time! Tywin knows what you did to the Kingslayer. He's planning to bring you out in the morning before Dany and Robb to do the same to you!"
Her lithe figure dodged away down the dark halls, barely lit by torches and her warning had him running right after her.
He tried to slow his breathing as he wondered by what means she meant to get him out of the castle. His mind turned to Vargo Hoat and stories Arya had told of him slowly dismembering his prisoners and his hair was standing on end.
A screech from a rat had him almost jumping out of his skin as he took the steps up the winding stairs two at a time.
"Look out!" Arya whispered hurriedly just as he stepped on soft flesh.
The body of a guard, throat a deep red and milky eyes bulging out of his head staring up toward the ceiling.
He looked at Arya in disbelief. Had she done this?
"Come on!" She called fearfully.
When they reached the courtyard, he saw a crescent moon hanging over the castle and the place was as desolate as a graveyard. Arya had stopped running and now calmly walked right up to the front gate.
He must be dreaming. How could this be real?
"The gate...," Jon whispered in awe. "The gate is open."
His mouth fell agape as he saw the bodies of three guards slumped over the edges of the battlements, blood still flowing down the wall. His heart beat wildly as he looked at Arya.
Just as they approached the open portcullis, its sharp points a silent threat, two figures approached, one short and fat, the other tall and well built. Jon stepped swiftly in front of his little sister.
"It's ok!" She told him quietly. "They're my friends."
They stared back wide-eyed, all four of them shook by their luck.
Arya told them to walk, and they did, though everything inside of him begged him to run.
He looked up to see deep, black murder holes above them as they walked between one gate and the next. Was this a trick? Would the gates be slammed shut and them caught between?
Passing under the final gate, he and Arya shared a look before they began to sprint to Robb's camp.
