The fall was quick, but unfortunately so was the pain. There was a winding garden path beneath the King's balcony, and both Robb and Jon had landed in a line of shrubs. The growths had softened the impact with the ground, but the dense branches had poked and sliced at any exposed skin. Fighting to ignore the discomfort, Robb swiftly righted himself before pulling his brother to his feet.

No sooner had he managed to gain his bearings that something flew past his head and embedded into the ground. Looking back up towards the balcony that they had just vacated, Robb saw Jaime Lannister standing behind four soldiers in various stages of loading and firing crossbows.

"Run!" Robb shouted to Jon, instantly turning and fleeing down the garden path. Unfortunately, Robb was not quite fast enough, as a loosed crossbow bolt crashed into the back of his left shoulder and sunk shallowly into his flesh. He grunted at the pain, but kept moving away from the danger.

"We need to get out of the Keep and into the city," Jon stated, breathing heavily next to him. "Why have they not raised an alarm?"

"They want to keep this contained," Robb responded, grimacing as the movement of his armor jostled the bolt in his shoulder. "I doubt we will be able to simply walk through the gates, but we have to try." They kept running, away from Maegor's Holdfast and back towards the Maidenvault. How they managed to avoid running into anymore soldiers, Robb did not know, but he thanked the gods anyway. His thanks proved a waste though, because soon enough they had run into the last person that Robb wanted to see at that moment.

"Robb?" Margaery questioned when she saw them. Her Father, brother Loras, and a small retinue of Tyrell men accompanied her. "Robb, you look as if you've been in a fight. You're wounded!" She had walked up to him without a thought, and immediately noticed the bolt sticking out of him. "Who did this?"

"Lady Margaery, please step away from these traitors to the crown."

Robb turned away from Margaery and looked at the source of the new voice. He immediately wished he hadn't. At least twenty gold cloaks stood behind them, and at their side was a smirking Littlefinger, looking as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Lord Baelish, what is the meaning of this?" Mace Tyrell asked, a look of confusion, greater than usual, adorning his face.

"The King is dead," Jon answered first, beating Baelish to the punch. "Murdered by the Lannisters."

Lord Tyrell's eyes widened. "Is this true, Baelish?"

"As much as it pains me to say, King Robert has died," Littlefinger sighed. "Though it was his excessive love of wine that took him, not the Lannisters. Gone in his sleep."

"If the King died at his own hand, then why are you standing here with a host of armed men, accusing Stark of being a traitor?" Loras question, stepping forward to stand beside his Sister.

"Upon his brother's death, Renly Baratheon hatched a scheme to usurp the crown from the rightful heir to the throne, Joffrey Baratheon," Baelish's skilled tongue lied with ease. "These two conspired with Renly, and now there is an order for their arrest."

"You're despicable," Robb growled at Baelish. "Of all the whores in your brothels, you are the biggest of all. What did they promise you for your lies? Gold? Titles?"

"You should know, a whore never reveals their client's secrets," Baelish grinned.

"Would someone please explain to me what is going on?" Lord Tyrell blustered.

"Where is Renly?" Loras asked, his face practically white.

"Renly is dead, Loras," Robb answered softly, watching as Margaery's brother practically fell over, his arm reaching out to his Sister for support.

"How?" Loras barely managed to get out.

"We discovered that the Queen and Kingslayer have been engaged in an affair for years. The Princes and Princess are the products of incest and don't have a drop of Baratheon blood in them. Renly was riding to Storm's End to gather support before this was revealed to King Rober, but the Lannisters rode him down and cut his head off."

Loras' eyes flashed with both pain and fury. He reached to his waste and drew his sword, before moving to stand beside Robb.

"Come now, Ser Loras," Littlefinger smiled. "You don't believe these tales?"

"I'd believe the words of a Stark over a loathsome flesh merchant like you any day, Baelish. Order your guard to stand down and let us through, or I swear I will cut a path through you."

"Loras!" Mace Tyrell yelled. "Stop this madness. Stand down and let these men do their duty. The Lannisters have been nothing but accommodating to us, and we will not cross them."

"Father, you are a coward," Margaery accused, bitingly. "You would have our family besmirch its honor by groveling at the feet of the Lannisters like dogs? They have murdered the King!"

"All lies, I'm sure," Mace Tyrell nodded, convinced of himself.

"You truly are a fool, Father," Margaery sighed, before turning her head to the six Tyrell soldiers behind him. "You brave men. Who will stand with Ser Loras? Who will defend the Kingdom?" The men looked at each other in confusion, unsure of what to do. After some internal debate, three of them stepped forward, drawing their swords. Robb simply stared at the force of nature that was Margaery. If he had not been in love with her before, he certainly was now.

"I think enough talking has been done," Baelish interrupted, genially. "I had hoped it would not come to this, Robb. I still do care very much for your Mother. I am sure it will greatly distress her when she hears of her firstborn's death. Take them." The first row of gold cloaks, armed with spears, lowered them and took a deliberate step towards Robb, and his supporting four.

"Robb, the outcome of this looks grim," Jon muttered from beside him.

"If this is the end, then I am sorry for making you come with me."

Jon managed a laugh. "I could think of worse ways to die. None right now, but I'm sure I could."

The gold cloaks were practically on top of them when a scream came from their rear. The gold cloaks in front stopped in confusion, and turned to look for the source of the sudden commotion. Apparently what they saw scared them deeply, because half of them dropped their spears and began to run in varying directions, all of them away. It did not take long for Robb to realize what was happening. He saw flashes of white and grey fur as the northern beasts tore through the flesh of the city watch. Grey Wind and Ghost had found something else to hunt.

Not wasting the distraction, Robb surged forward and drove his sword into the first gold cloak he could reach. Jon and Loras followed soon after, cutting a swathe through the enemy line. Loras was a man possessed, as his sword cut through limb and torso of the stunned soldiers, who barely put up a fight. Soon enough, faced with devastating attacks from both sides, the remaining gold cloaks ran, leaving an unnaturally stunned Littlefinger standing on his own. Robb approached the man, gripped him tightly by the neck, and drove the pommel of his sword across his face, gashing it.

"You can add that scar to the one my Uncle Brandon gave you. Maybe this time you'll learn not to cross my family."

Baelish reached up to his face and wiped away a smear of red. "And maybe you will share his fate, dead and forgotten."

"The north always remembers, Baelish," Robb countered.

"Robb, we need to go," Jon hurried him. "We've already attracted more attention."

"He's right Robb, we need to go," Loras stated, his face still a tangle of emotions.

"You are coming with us?" Robb asked.

"I've no choice now. The Lannisters are my enemy, and I will see them pay for their schemes."

"I'm coming as well," Margaery asserted, putting herself between them.

"Daughter, you most certainly are not!" Mace Tyrell yelled. "You will do your duty to your family and secure our alliance with the crown. You are to be Queen."

Margaery stared at her Father with contempt. "I will never be Joffrey's Queen, Father. You would deliver me into the hands of a wicked child to become his plaything? I may be but a woman, but that will not be my fate."

"This boy has spoken lies to you daughter," Lord Tyrell pointed at Robb. "I have seen you with him. He just wants to take you for himself!"

"And I want him to take me Father, that is the difference," Margaery shot back.

"So you will disobey your Father to go and freeze as some northern boy's wife?"

Given their dire need to leave and his sheer exasperation at Mace Tyrell, Robb decided to end things. "Aye, Lord Tyrell. I will make her my wife, but I would never let her freeze, nor want for anything. Which is more than I can say for a fool like you, who would hand over his only daughter to be tortured into misery for the rest of her life. Winterfell may be cold, but not as cold as your heart, sir." His piece said, Robb turned to the others. "Let's go, quickly."

He reached for Margaery, and she took his hand as they ran towards the main gate out of the Keep and into the City. Within a few moments, the group of seven along with two direwolves was in sight of the gate. Unfortunately, the vision they were met with had them cease their steps immediately. The gate was closed, and along the parapets were gold cloaks bearing crossbows. On the ground, dozens of Lannister soldiers stood at the ready, making sure that no one was leaving."

"Robb, what will we do?" Margaery asked, worry clear in her voice. For as much as Robb wanted to ease her worry, he was having enough trouble with his own. There were other gates, but they meant going back towards Maegor's Holdfast, which was certainly not desirable, and just as likely shut. His only other thought was to get onto the walls and try to find away over and down. However, as it turned out, their savior appeared out of nowhere in the form of small boy, who looked like he could be no older than five or six.

"Are you Robb Stark?" the boy asked, his voice calm and steady.

"I am," Robb replied, his confusion at the whole situation evident.

"If you want to safely leave the Keep, follow me."

"Who are you?"

"A little bird, and a parting gift." With that, the boy took off.

Robb looked at the others, who were equally flummoxed. Seeing no guidance coming from them, he did the only thing he could do, and followed after his tiny, would be savior. It did not take long for him to realize where they were headed...straight into the Godswood. His confusion only grew, because there was no way out of the Keep that he was aware of. They ran deeper into the wood, past the great oak heart tree, until there ran into yet another strange sight. Standing at the base of a tree was another child, this one a slightly older girl. She stood silently, holding a burning lantern in one hand.

Their young guide ran up to where the girl stood, and then bent down to reach for something at the base of the tree. In his hand appeared a weathered rope, looped at end. He pulled at it hard, and Robb watched in amazement as the ground before the tree lifted, revealing a wooden door and dark passage. Once the passage was completely exposed, the boy stepped back, and the young girl approached, holding the lantern out for Robb. "Go quickly, Robb Stark."

Pausing only a moment for the absurdity of the moment to sink in, Robb grabbed the lantern and approached the dark cavern. Carved, earthen steps revealed themselves under the exposure to the light, and Robb wasted little time beginning his descent. The steps were not many, but they were steep. Margaery was behind him, so he stopped to make sure that her dress did not impede her way. When he was certain that she was fine, he finished his decent, until he stood at the beginning of the passage. The air was musty and stale, and the walls, which were held up by decrepit wooden posts, looked like they could cave in at any moment. Which was all the reason not to delay.

The group walked swiftly down the passage, the air becoming thicker and thicker. At one point they were startled when the passage became even darker, but then realized that the children had closed the secret door. They walked for a while longer, until they thankfully reached another set of stairs.

At the base of the steps, Robb turned to the others. "Margaery, stay to the back. We don't know what, or whom we are walking into. Though I cannot imagine that those children led us out of the Keep only to put us in greater danger." He spun and made his was to the top of the steps. Once, there he could see the outline of another trap door above him. He reached up, placing his palms on the door. The pain from his wound stunned him slightly, but he bit harshly at his lip, and pushed upwards. Nothing happened. He tried again, grunting with extra force. Again nothing.

"Jon, help me with this," he called to his brother. Jon stepped up next to him, and together they pushed. This time they at least achieved movement, but not much of it. They tried again, but it was clear more force was needed. Realizing this as well, Loras squeezed himself onto the top step, and all together they pushed. It quickly became evident, that no one had used this passage in a long time because as they pushed they could hear the sound of cracking and sliding above them. Someone had built over the door. From there it was just a matter of pushing until they had sufficiently broke through the surface above. As they did, light flooded into the tunnel, and Robb had to briefly shut his eyes until they adjusted to the change.

Robb gripped his sword and launched himself through the opening and out of the tunnel. While he had been ready to meet enemy soldiers, he had not been prepared for the sight that greeted him. He was in an exotically decorated room, and in the middle of it was a great bed. On top of it, a naked woman writhed enthusiastically on top of a great fat man, who was moaning in apparent pleasure. They had managed to escape the Red Keep and burrow their way into what Robb was pretty certain was a brothel. Robb could not help but shake his head. The others were just as stunned as they exited the tunnel. Though, what was more amazing was that the two rutting on the bed continued on with their activities, not even realizing that six people had just emerged out of the ground.

Robb wasted no more time and led them out of the room. Fortunately, no one seemed to pay them much mind as they maneuvered their way through the establishment, and finally out of the door. Robb breathed an audible sigh of relief as they walked into the daylight. Before Robb could continue to move them towards the gate, Loras pulled him back.

"Robb, we need to pull that bolt out of your shoulder. It will draw attention to us if people see you walking around with that."

Not enthusiastic at the prospect of it, but realizing the utility, Robb nodded, gritting his teeth as Loras reached for the bolt. Without any warning, Loras yanked at it, and Robb had to stop himself from shouting at the agony of it. He wasn't sure if it was the sudden pain that had done it, but for some reason something popped into the forefront of his mind, something that he needed to. Or rather someone that he needed to get.

"Jon, Loras, get everyone out of King's Landing to the inn where Theon is waiting. There is something that I need to do before I leave."

"Robb, what are saying? We need to leave now!" Jon exclaimed.

"I need to get the blacksmith," Robb explained quickly. "He is not safe here any longer."

"Let me go, Robb," Jon pleaded. "You need to get out of here."

"No, I will go," Robb shook his head, denying him. "Get to Theon, and have the horses prepared to ride."

Robb was about to turn, but a hand stopped him. He looked back to Margaery, who leaned up and kissed him briefly. "You told my Father you would marry me, so you better make it out of here to do it."

"I promise," Robb stated, as he turned and headed for Tobho Mott's shop. He navigated his way through the streets, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, which was hard when bloody and wearing armor. Once on the Street of Steel, Robb picked up his pace and ran to his destination. Fortunately, Gendry's master was nowhere to be seen. The apprentice looked like he was in the process of putting the shop back in order following the end of the tournament. Gendry stopped when he saw Robb standing in the entrance.

"Lord Stark?" Gendry questioned. "Did you need me to make a repair on your armor?"

Robb shook his head urgently. "No, I need you to come with me. Right now."

The blacksmith frowned. "Come with you? Come with you where?"

"North. Away from King's Landing."

"I can't leave," Gendry argued. "This is my job, my home."

"Gendry, you aren't safe here any longer," Robb explained. "They are going to come for you, and they will kill you."

"What are you talking about? Who wants to kill me?"

"The Lannisters, Gendry. It has to do with your Father."
"You know who my Father is?"

"I do," Robb nodded. "But there is not enough time to explain it right now. We need to leave the city. I promise it will make sense."

Gendry looked around, clearly contemplating everything. Finally he agreed. "I've always wanted to leave this place," he explained. "I guess there's no better time than now, if it means I won't die."

"Good," Robb stated. "If you have anything of importance, retrieve it now, and let's be off. Oh, and bring a sword as well. You certainly are not short of them here." The blacksmith moved quickly, removing his apron, and pulling on a shirt. He pulled on a belt and attached one of the swords that hung on a rack. The final thing was his bull helmet. "Ready," Gendry announced, giving the shop one last glance.

Within a minute of them leaving, the ominous sounds of bells ringing from the Red Keep could be heard. All around them people stopped what they were doing and looked towards the Keep. "What is that?" Gendry questioned.

"The King is dead."

Gendry stopped walking, forcing Robb to as well. "Did you kill him? Is that why we're running?"

"No, but I know who did. And they are same people who will see your throat slit and body thrown into the Blackwater. Keep moving." Robb picked up their pace, concerned now that an alarm had been raised. They weaved their way through the assembling crowds until finally they were within sight of the Dragon Gate, and the Kingsroad beyond. Once again, luck was not on his side, as it seemed the guards were in the process of closing the gate. Three men stood guard at the gate, preventing anyone from exiting, while two more were fooling with the lowering mechanism.

"Can you fight Gendry?" Robb asked, drawing his sword.

"Well enough," the blacksmith answered, following Robb's lead, though somewhat hesitant.

"Good. We are going to surprise the two lowering the gate, before it can be shut any further. Be fast and deliberate."

They stayed close to the wall until they were within a few steps of the two gold cloaks. Robb moved first, swinging his pommel down viciously on the back of the left-hand guard's head. There was a great clang as the sword struck the metal helm, and the man yelled and fell to the ground in pain. The downed soldier rolled onto this back to view his attacker, but before he had the chance to do anymore, Robb thrust the heel of his boot into the man's face. Robb looked over and saw that Gendry had just as effectively neutralized his target.

"You there! Drop your weapons this instant!" The voice shouted and Robb looked to see the three gold cloaks guarding the gate approaching, swords drawn. He could see the gate was still slowly closing.

"Gendry, stop the gate. I'll deal with them," Robb stated.

"You do know there are three of them, and one of you?"

"Those are some of the best odds I've had this morning. Now go." Robb moved forward as the three soldiers spread out around him. They eyed each other, daring the other to make the first move. Robb had to say, these men had never come across as the best trained or overly intelligent, and they proved Robb's assumptions true when they decided to attack him one at a time instead of together. The guard in center moved first, intent on impaling Robb, but he simply side-stepped the lunge, then swung down harshly across the man's arms, cutting into them deeply, and irreparably.

The next gold cloak stepped forward and hacked at Robb's head, forcing Robb to raise his sword and block the strike. While their swords were locked, Robb drove his knee up into the man's stomach. His opponent forced back, Robb swung his sword down at the man's thigh, cutting deeply and dropping him to the ground. While they had been fighting, the third gold cloak had disappeared. Robb did not realize the danger until he heard the shout behind him. The final gold cloak rushed at him quickly, but before he had a chance to drive his sword into Robb's back, the tip of another sword appeared from nowhere out of the man's gut, blood coating it's length. The gold cloak stopped instantly, shock on his face as he looked down at his impending end. Robb watched as the sword was pulled out, the man dropped lifeless, and Gendry was left standing alone, sword still extended.

"Thanks for that," Robb thanked him. Gendry merely nodded back, still a little stunned at his actions. Robb noticed that the gate had ceased in its movement, and that people were now streaming in and out of the gate freely, now that the obstacles stopping them were gone. Gendry and Robb merged seamlessly into the crowd, and before Robb knew it, they were standing on the other side of the walls, and he was one step closer to home.