Natasha
"This might be the dumbest thing you ever done," Natasha complained as the two of them moved through one of little used underground tunnels that ran through the length of King's Landing. She wasn't foolish enough to believe that she was the first to have discovered this tunnel, as she knew there were plenty of spymasters who had called the Capital their home who knew the ins and outs of the city far better than she ever would. But the usual signs of movement weren't there. Dust lay undisturbed. The wet slime that had covered the cold stone showed no footprints. The walls had no soot marks from torches or candles being lit. If someone had used the tunnels before then it had been ages since they'd last trekked through the darkness and only their ghosts remembered the way.
Which was fine by Natasha as she really didn't feel like having to slit some throats and break some necks in order to keep the secret between just her and Jon. Her husband was only just beginning to look at her again without a weary disgust and she honestly didn't want to give him any other reason to begin mistrusting her again. Murder had a bad way of putting barriers up in a relationship.
"What was the second?"
"Pardon?" she asked, ducking under some roots that had grown through a crack in the tunnel's ceiling.
"What is the second dumbest thing I've ever done," Jon asked.
"…are you serious?"
"More like curious," he said and even without turning to stare at him she knew he was smirking at her with a grin that would do Tony proud. "Do you keep a list or is it more of a general thing rattling about in your head?"
She pressed her lips together in a fine line, annoyed at his comment before she bit out, "Attacking Tony in his own workshop."
"Fair enough," Jon admitted. "I should have just flown away but it was a good stress relief. What was my third worst?"
"Are we honestly doing this?" she complained.
"Do you have something else we could discuss while walking?" Jon pressed. "It seems like a fine topic."
Natasha paused to check an old torch holder that was secured to the wall, grabbing onto it lightly. The rush was caked on thick to it, having not been disturbed in ages, and when she pulled lightly on the metal it groaned, sending bits of stone tumbling down to her feet; it hadn't been used in at least a century, she would wager. Maybe not since The Dance of the Dragons, if not longer. A rare secret that Varys didn't make use of… she would have to decide if she wanted to hold it over his head or if t would be better to truly keep it just her secret.
"Well?" Jon asked. No… he practically SANG the words.
She finally turned and shot him a dark look from under the hood of her cloak. "You foolishly thinking that the only place for you in the entire world was the Night's Watch and thus nearly costing me our marriage."
"Hmmm," Jon said, waggling his head back and forth before smirking, his face glowing in the light of the sunstone lantern Natasha was carrying. "So what you're saying is that this wasn't that dumb at all."
"Excuse me?" Natasha said in annoyance, wondering how he'd jumped to that conclusion.
"Well… Tony was a massive ass and he did spring trying to take the armor from me so the only real stupid part of that was us fighting in the armor instead of just bloodying ourselves. That would have been quicker and I think highly more effective."
"...that sounds almost Dornish of you," she muttered.
"Northern, actually. Robb and I are brothers but we fought many times all the same in the yard. Lady Stark would have had my head if I threw a punch at him but hitting him a bit too hard with a sword when he was being a bit too arrogant? That was always satisfying. And he did the same when I was far too gloomy. And speaking of Lady Stark-" he paused to step over a puddle before continuing, "-thanks to her there was no hope of me being given a castle of my own or even a small village to govern. Anything would have been seen as a slight against 'Lord Star's trueborn children'. And my father refusing to allow me to squire for another or be fostered at another holdfast meant that my only other option as to become a hedgeknight who wasn't actually a knight. The Wall was the best place to go without me becoming a cutthroat. Remember… Tony wasn't talked about much at Winterfell and when he was it wasn't in the kindest terms."
Natasha conceded that point. "I always forget that bastards in the Six Kingdoms aren't given the truth and respect they have in Dorne."
Jon nodded. "So if those were my second and third dumbest choices then this wasn't that bad at all."
She stopped, turned, and jabbed a finger at him. "I think I liked you better when you were brooding!"
"I only brooded briefly," he pointed out with a teasing tone.
"Pepper told me plenty about how you were before I arrived at Iron Pointe and you gained your armor."
"Tony rubs off on people."
"Or infects them like puff penis," Natasha snapped.
"Someone is moody," Jon said with a far too casual tone for Natasha's liking. "I thought you'd be happy that I made this discovery. And you are always telling me how important alliances are-"
"Yes, in the Red Keep or when we rule Iron Pointe!" Natasha declared; her mind did silently add 'Or when you sit the Iron Throne' but she thought it wise, with them finally on good standing with each other and moving back to having a loving relationship, to not suggest she was plotting to overthrow Joffrey and declare him the King of the Seven Kingdoms.
She was, of course, because Natasha liked to have plans and plans to back up those plans, but it would be far better for Jon to learn of that at a later time… like right after his coronation. In fact it might be better that he learned he would be king after he'd been crowned. Perhaps after a decade of ruling.
"But what I didn't want you to do was reveal that you are one of the crown's most sought after men to a bunch of children who have connections to the Lannisters!" she exclaimed.
Jon just watched her, tilting his head. "You know, when you yell like that you remind me of Arya."
"GAAAA!" Natasha screamed, stomping her foot. Only her husband… only her Jon… could make the famous Black Widow want to rip her hair out and screech like an infant not given its mother's milk.
"Yes, exactly like that," he teased before walking up and giving her a hug. "It will be okay, Natasha. I trust Petyr. Gwen and Miles as well. They are good kids who just want to help Westeros… and they have secrets as well. Dangerous ones that would see them hunted same as me if revealed."
She sighed. They had discussed all of this a few days earlier, when Jon had returned from his flight to find Natasha waiting for him wondering what the fuck he'd been doing flying about the Tower of the Hand. When he'd told her about the Spiders and revealing who he was to them she had been ready to flee King's Landing right then but he had assured her that the Spiders wouldn't reveal his secret to anyone. And the fact that they hadn't awoken with spears held at their throats had led credence to his believe. Still… Natasha couldn't help but worry that Jon was being far to cavalier with this secret. The people of Iron Pointe figuring out the truth was one thing, for they were all loyal to Tony (and the sole one that hadn't been had 'mysteriously disappeared' during the trip to Lannisport for the wedding and certainly hadn't been buried in an unmarked grave by the Black Widow of Dorne).
But the Spiders?
"You say you trust them…" she said once again only for Jon to shake his head, pulling her away just enough so he could look her in the eye.
"They are eager young kids that need our help. And they needed someone they could trust. I don't doubt for a second that them knowing I'm Centurion was the right decision."
Natasha finally sighed in defeat. "I truly hope so, Jon, I truly hope so. Because I don't want to have the lives we've made for ourselves destroyed because some child saw a chance to earn a bit of coin…"
"I promise you it will be okay. They are inviting us to their secret hideout." The way he said it annoyed her, like he saw this all as a childish game he might have played with his younger siblings. But it wasn't… this was life or death. It was why she'd demanded to come with him when he'd told her that the Spiders wanted to talk to him again after their first meeting. It was why she was the one in charge of taking them through King's Landing; if it had been Jon her foolish husband would have probably mimicked Ned Stark and ridden about in the open! Jon had no understanding of how to be crafty and subtle!
'Honestly it's a wonder the secret has remained as well hidden as it has,' she mentally admitted as they finally came to an old wooden ladder that began to snap apart the moment she put a bit of pressure onto the first rug. It led to a ledge about 6 feet above them, a small door cut into the stone. Their way out.
"I'll give you a boost," Jon offered, crouching down and cupping his hands for her foot. But Natasha merely took a few steps back before rushing forward, easily launching herself towards the ledge, grabbing on and not so much yanking herself up as gliding over the ledge and landing beside the door. She looked down at Jon and smirked, causing her husband to shrug. "Show off," he teased before doing as she did, taking a running leap. He though only managed to grasp her extended hand, Nat pulling him up. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," she said before opening the door, grimacing at how the hinges screeched in protest and making a note to bring some oil if they came this way again. The door led into a cluttered storeroom filled with all manner of tools and blades; not swords and axes but scythes and saws for trimming grass and pruning trees. The clutter was so much that one couldn't even see the door without walking around the great piles, which was why the tunnel hadn't been discovered.
"How did you find out about this path?" Jon whispered as he set about carefully climbing over old bags of half-rotted flower bulbs and crates that had once housed gravel but were now discarded until needed once again.
"It was listed in one of the books in Maester Pycelle's library that I borrowed to learn more about this hideaway," she said as she nimbly ducked and weaved around the farming tools left by the groundskeepers; they showed more signs of being used than the tunnel did but per her sources they only came to this manse once a month and had already visited a few days ago. "I like to know everything about a place if I have to visit it."
"It's not really borrowing if you never intend to give the book back," Jon pointed out.
Natasha rolled her eyes. "The old goat won't miss it. He has a massive library but if you actually look at the shelves you'll see the only books he grabs are the ones banned by the Citadel. I swear he has five different copies of A Caution For Young Girls, in various states of distress… and staining." She grimaced; she'd seen some very disgusting things in her time working for the council but the sticky pages of Pycelle's books would haunt her for a while. "I'll give the kids credit for the fact that they were rather clever for where they chose to hide out. They picked the perfect place to sneak off to. Secure, comfortable, and almost no chance someone will go snooping around."
The manse had no true name, which was odd for such an opulent structure. In King's Landing especially there was a need to name every building something if it had a bit of wealth or power behind it… and the structure Natasha and Jon were heading for certainly did. Located close to the water but away from the more festering parts of the Blackwater where the waste of Flea Bottom poured into the bay, the manse was a rare spot in King's Landing where one could actually breathe. No other buildings to crowd it, pressing against the walls til it felt like it was a pimple nearing to pop. Instead it was quite sprawling, with a decent size garden, a stable and small track for ladies to ride ponies about, and its own well that was refilled several times a year with crisp fresh water brought from the lakes west of King's Landing rather than the brackish water of the Blackwater Rush. Made of brick and logs, the manse proper with its longhall and single tower were fitted with diamond-shaped windows with high quality glass. A large 14 foot wall surrounded the entire structure, spiked with iron and a single ornate bronze 'eye' set in the only gate so that guards might look out on who approached. It was a place where princesses and ladies of high birth could spend lazy Spring days sitting amongst the dragonsbreath and purple lilies, watching the butterflies move about while drinking all manner of juices and nibbling on cheeses and tender meats.
Yet there was no one around. Not a soul. The manse and its lands were maintained but not for any guest. This nameless place had never even had a resident stay in its nearly 70 years of existence. Most of the smallfolk only knew it as 'The manse near the Iron Gate'… assuming they realized it was a manse at all, for there were many who never peered over the spiked wall and assumed it was merely an extension of the walls of King's Landing itself.
"What a waste," Jon muttered to himself. "Why have this but never use it?"
"Lannister pride, in both cases," Natasha said as the two of them carefully made their way through the garden, doing all they could to leave no traces of their approach. This meant that Natasha actually followed behind Jon, quietly brushing her boot over his footprints and checking to ensure he didn't snap a branch or crumple a flower. Anything that might alter the caretakers when they next returned that there had been visitors.
"Not that I'm not surprised it is the Lannisters but what is the story?" Jon whispered.
"This manse was built by Lord Gerold Lannister, Grandfather of Tywin Lannister, in the year 229 as a gift for his new bride, Lady Rohanne Webber. The manse itself is actually very loosely based on her previous husband's keep, Standfast." She shook her head. "VERY loosely."
"That seems… odd."
"Rohanne Webber and Lord Gerold had both been married before, though neither had seen their marriages bring much happiness. I think it was a final insult to Lord Osgrey that Lord Gerold could make a far grander Standfast for Lady Rohanne and not even have it be their true home." Natasha paused, reaching up to gently push one of the branches out of her way so it didn't snap and hit her in the face. They were making their way through a tiny orchard towards the back door of the manse. "Though it did serve another purpose. The Targaryens were rising again and he hoped that he might be a part of that rise, as had been the case during the Dance and its aftermath. This manse would be his home away from Casterly Rock as he worked to integrate himself into the new dynasty King Maekar was sure to build."
"I'm sensing things didn't go as he wished?" Jon japed.
Natasha smiled at that. "They didn't. Just as the manse was completed, while Lord Gerold and his family were still in the Westerlands, a grand controversy occurred that swept over King's Landing and Casterly Rock. Lord Gerold and Lady Rohanne were entertaining a tax collector for the crown, feasting him and holding dances in his honor in hopes he'd put in a good word for them back at court. It was during one of these dances that word reached them that some brigand was trying to falsely claim he was also a tax collector and demanding payments from several inns on the outskirts of the city. Lord Gerold had him seized and brought to the dungeons within The Rock, torturing the man for insulting his guest. His tongue was ripped out, his fingers broken and reset improperly, and he enduring beatings and starvation."
"He truly was a tax collector, wasn't he?"
Natasha nodded grimly. "It was worse than that. The man the Lannisters had feasted was a trickster and a thief who had already spent all the coin meant for the crown on lavish clothing, gilded weapons, and the fastest horse in the Westerlands. Not that it did him much good… he was quickly caught by Kingsmen sent to determine why the true tax collector had not returned. I won't bore you with the tortures he faced but the fact remained that the Lannisters had not just maimed and mutilated one of the King's trusted men but been embarrassed and made fools of. Westeros didn't laugh at them openly… mostly because they waited to see what would happen to them.
"Lord Gerold and his wife traveled to King's Landing personally to apologize to the king but before Lord Gerold could utter a word the King's son, Prince Aegon, ordered him seized and tossed into a Black Cell until such time he could be sure that Lord Gerold was who he claimed to be. 'Unlike you, my lord, I am not one to dine with tricksters and thieves' he taunted at Lord Gerold was led away."
Jon grimaced at that, stopping at the door. "I'm sure that went over well."
Natasha though shrugged. "What could anyone do? Maekar was king and Aegon was beloved by the smallfolk. The Lords whined he was half peasant because of his youth but they realized that if Aegon commanded the smallfolk to rise to the crown's defense they would… and they far outnumbered the simpering lords in court."
Jon held up his hand. "Wait… Lady Rohanne… Aegon the Unlikely…"
"I was wondering if you pick up on that. Yes, the same Rohanne that Dunk and Egg met in the tale 'The Sworn Sword'." Natasha shook her head at that. "Lady Rohanne remembered their encounter and believed that she might use the past to convince Prince Aegon to spare her husband. He agreed to meet her in his solar but it did not go as she hoped. He commanded she make clear to her family, and all those that came from her line, that until the debt was repaid to Ser Duncan for her scheming heart only doom would greet any Lannister who came to King's Landing."
"They didn't listen," Jon muttered.
"Yes. Yet… how many of their family have died young, almost mysteriously so? Or seen grave setbacks that have left them tettering. Do not doubt the power of a king's word." Natasha let out a sigh. "As for Lady Rohanne… history says that she simply disappeared after giving birth to her final child. The Council holds that words have power… and Aegon himself traveled towards the Westerlands just after the birth of that child. What COMPELLED her to walk into the sea, I wonder?"
Jon shuddered at that. "I'd rather not think about such things."
"You should," Natasha warned him. "That was an age without magic… and now it has returned." Without saying another word she knocked on the door and, after a moment, it opened to reveal Miles' grinning face.
"I think she didn't walk into the sea… I bet she sewed herself up in a sack!"
Natasha shot the boy a look. "It is rude to eavesdrop."
"Ruder to stand in a doorway and yammer," he counted before motioning for them to follow him. "Come on in. Welcome to the Web." He chuckled at Natasha's sour look. "Yeah, it's a horrible name. Petyr won the dice roll to name it though so we don't have much choice. Come on, the others are setting up some food."
Much to Natasha's surprise the youths hadn't torn the elegant manse apart. She'd been ready to find signs of destruction all over: knocked over vases that hadn't been cleaned up, defiled paintings with crude beards painted onto the faces with black ink, rotting food left lying about without a care. But that wasn't the case here. It looked like any other manse or keep she might have walked into. If not for his age she would have thought Miles to be a lord welcoming them to his home and showing them to the longhall for a feast in their honor. It was rather impressive.
They entered the solar to find Gwen sitting behind the desk, her feet up on it in a casual disregard for the prestige and standing of the room, eyes focused down at her heels which rested next to a detailed wooden map of King's Landing and the Kingswood that surrounded it. The map had been made to be a smaller version of the famous Painted Table found in dragon stone though Natasha doubted that the original artist who had crafted it had assumed that a group of young people barely out of childhood would be the first to use it.
"Hello Gwen," Jon said with a light smile.
"Hello," she greeted back, waving to some chairs that sat around the large carved desk. "Have a seat, relax. Wine?"
"No thank you," Jon said. "It doesn't affect me and honestly I hate the taste of most of them. A good ale though…"
"That's because you are a savage Northman," Natasha teased as she took a seat, deciding to keep things nice and light so she might better gauge these children her husband had decided to ally himself with.
"That's fine, we don't have any wine anyway," Mile said.
Gwen blushed at that. "I was being polite, Miles."
"Polite to offer something we don't have?" he asked.
Gwen refused to answer him, instead looking to Jon and Natasha, stating, "We don't drink wine ourselves… or ale or rum or anything, honestly."
"Yeah," a voice said above them and Natasha snapped her head up, wondering how the hell she had missed the fact that Petyr Parker was sitting on the ceiling, barefoot and smirking.
'Probably because even with your training you don't expect to find children hanging upside down.'
"We tried it once," Petyr continued, "didn't work out so good. You know what it's like to be drunk and try walking around? Now imagine swinging about King's Landing. We might be Spiders but I'd rather we didn't go splat like one!"
"Doesn't that bother you?" Jon finally asked.
"Nah," Petyr said with a grin. "I'm not sure if it has to do with how we got our powers or we're just built differently but I don't get any of the blood rushing to my head you might expect."
"That doesn't mean it's not rude!" an older woman declared as she walked into the room, pushing a cart full of different pastries and treats. She looked up at Petyr, her face firm and stern. "Get down here at once and greet your guests, young man! Ben and I didn't raise you to be sitting on the ceiling instead of properly saying hello!"
"Sorry Aunt May," Petyr said with a grimace, pushing off the ceiling and doing a flip before he landed silently on the floor. Natasha found herself highly impressed; the flip was well done and the fact that he hadn't made a sound when he landed was rather spectacular. It had taken her nearly a year of being thrown off different structures during her childhood to finally learn how to fall silently.
May Parker nodded as Petyr moved to put his boots on before looking at Gwen, raising a disapproving eyebrow. "And I know your father didn't raise you to be a savage!" She reached over and smacked Gwen's feet. "Off, now!"
"Yes Aunt May," Gwen said quickly, ducking her head in embarrassment. "Sorry Aunt May."
The older woman nodded before looking at Miles, who went ramrod straight, clearly worried she'd be yelling at him next. She didn't though and he sagged in relief when she finally turned to Jon and Natasha, the two of them rising from their seats. "Sorry but these kids… I don't suppose you have children of your own, with how young you are, but you'll understand when you do. They can be sweethearts, all of them, but give them an inch and they will take the width of Westeros."
"Of course," Natasha said, quickly scanning the woman, her mind pulling up all she knew about her. May Parker, widow of Benjen Parker. She and her husband had been raising Petyr after his parents had been slain during the chaos that had descended King's Landing after Joffrey had taken the throne and before Tyrion Lannister had restored order. But, according to her sources, May and Ben had been raising Petyr far longer than that due to Petyr's birth mother suffering from a blood sickness that had mostly kept her bedridden since the boy's birth and his father hadn't been the most attentive in his seeking to further his standing in the Goldcloaks. Benjen had died during the Battle of the Blackwater and Tywin Lannister had show particular attention to her when she'd taken in the late Lord Commander Jeor Stacy's daughter Gwen, granting her Ben's pay for the rest of her days and assigning Petyr to be taught by the men of the Red Keep. She was a fierce yet kind woman known through much of King's Landing as someone all could turn to in their time of need and despite the tragedies that had befallen her she had never once shown signs of giving into despair.
The woman, who was probably in her 50s, still had her dark hair but gray was beginning to streak it and her face was lined with wrinkles that were well earned after a good life. She wasn't the tallest or prettiest woman that had ever lived and she certainly wouldn't turn heads now but there was a grace to her that made people want to protect her.
'And she knows how to handle children,' Natasha thought as May reached over and gave Petyr's hand a smack when he shot… well, Natasha supposed 'webbing' was the best term for it… from his wrist to try and snag a bit of cake.
"We use our hands, Petyr, not our web!" May told him sternly before turning to Jon, smiling. "Would you like some? I made it myself. If you are worried about me stealing I promise I had the children bring the ingredients here. I only used the well water and we will replace that."
"Thank you," Jon said with no sense of self-preservation, accepting a apple pastry from May. Natasha mentally rolled her eyes and waved off the offer; if Jon keeled over she wanted to NOT have poison in her system so she might get him to safety. "I must admit I wasn't expecting you here." May looked at him, silently asking for him to elaborate. "I assumed that Petyr and his friends would have tried to keep everything they did a secret."
"Oh, they DID try that," May said with a casual wave of her hand as she took a seat next to Gwen, who scooted over so that the woman had space to sit and eat. She picked up a fork and cut into an orange peel cake slice. "Little scampers were out and about for… two weeks?" Gwen nodded slightly at that. "Two weeks before I finally realized something was going on."
"We had to tell her because she assumed… uh…" Petyr rubbed the back of his neck. May, interestingly, appeared embarrassed as well.
Miles spoke up. "She thought that we were selling ourselves at one of the pleasure houses."
Jon's face twisted in disgust. "People would… with children?"
Everyone in the room just turned and stared at him.
"…yes yes, make fun of the poor sheltered Northerner who thinks child whores are weird and strange and disgusting!" he groused.
May smiled at him and decided to, for Jon's sake, continue on with her tale. "We had a talk and they admitted what had happened to them. I must admit I was rather shocked, as I am sure you would be too."
'No, I wouldn't,' Natasha thought, 'but I've lived a crazy life.'
"How did you three get these powers?" Jon asked.
Gwen shrugged. "Same as everyone else who got powers: the Battle of the Blackwater. When the Imp-"
"Lord Tyrion," May told her firmly.
"Sorry. When Lord Tyrion used the wildfire to blow up Stannis' ships it released a… well, this weird green wave of energy. We were hiding in the attic of Aunt May's house, the three of us, in case Stannis' forces did get into the Capital."
"I was there when the Lannisters sacked King's Landing during the Rebellion," May informed the two of them. "The only reason Ben and I weren't troubled was we had the smarts to hide in the cellar until Ser Kevan Lannister passed and we offered our home up for him to use as a command post." She smiled fondly at that. "Lord Tywin does not remember but he complimented my tea."
Natasha was of two minds on that: she found it hard to believe that Tywin would give anyone a compliment… and if he did she was sure he remembered. She filed that away as possibly another reason he had shown kindness to the widow. A Lannister always paid their debts.
"We were up in the attic," Miles said, getting back to their story. "That green wave hit and at first we thought everything was fine… and then the spiders began pouring out of, well, everywhere."
"It's like one of those horror tales the singers will sometimes tell during the harvest festivals," Gwen said with a shudder. "There were so many of them they covered us completed. We couldn't even swat them off because there were simply too many to comprehend."
Petyr nodded. "And that's when they began to bite us. All over." Natasha, who had allowed herself to be bitten by many different poisonous animals to develop a tolerance to their venom, could understand just how horrid that must have been. "When we woke up the next morning though there wasn't a single bite on us and we… well…" He stood up and did several backflips in a row before smirking.
"What can you do, exactly?" Natasha asked.
"We're far more agile than a normal person," Gwen said. "Stronger too. I can lift this desk with one hand and it's like lifting a piece of paper."
"We're faster," Miles added. "Greater reflexes. We can… sense when danger is coming. If you were to throw something at me, even if I were blindfolded, I'd sense it and be able to duck out of the way."
"Stick to walls," Petyr told them, eying up the ceiling only to duck his head when his aunt glared at him and shook her head. "And then there is the webbing." He held out his arm and Natasha could see a faint cut on each of his wrists, no more deep than a cut a maester might receive from some parchment… or at least it appeared so. Petyr pressed his ring and middle finger against his palm though and the cut suddenly deeped and disengorged a line of grayish fiber that struck the wall. "It dissolves after about an hour or so but it's as strong as steel. Sticks to nearly everything too."
"And then there are our individual powers," Miles said.
"Individual?" Jon questioned.
The dark skinned boy nodded. "We each have a few extra powers the others don't." And with that he suddenly disappeared. "I can go invisible," Miles' voice said before he reappeared. "And my web can become… well, its like a shock. Drains me but I'm getting better."
"I can… well, Petyr calls it teleportation," Gwen said before suddenly appearing behind Jon and Natasha, making the two jump; it was only using all her willpower that kept Natasha from attacking the girl. "I can't go through walls and I need to be able to see where I want to go but I can 'jump' up to 20 feet."
Petyr raised his hand. "Accelerated healing. I could take a knife to the stomach and it wouldn't slow me down." His aunt twisted to stare at him in horror and Petyr quickly stammered, "Not that that has happened, Aunt May! Just a guess! I've only gotten cuts, I swear."
Natasha didn't believe him for a second and she was rather sure May didn't either but preferred to be blissfully ignorant.
"That's all well and good," she finally said, "but I'd like to know is what exactly your endgame is for all this. What are you after?"
"What do you mean?" Gwen asked.
"You have to want something out of this. There has to be a reason you run around helping people."
"Because it's the right thing to do?" Petyr said, clearly confused by her comment.
'And that answers that question,' Natasha thought to herself. There were so very many reasons people decided to push aside the natural instinct to focus inward; to no long worry about one's self but help others. Regret and shame were popular ones, with the Silent Sisters and the Faith filled with women who had sinned and tried to serve the Seven in hopes of undoing the damage they had done to their honor. Knights commonly would fight losing battles just for the hope of regaining honor that didn't actually belong to them. A miserly lord would suddenly become open handed when he prayed to the gods for salvation and receive it while the most lustful of women would become pious beacons of virtue when they came to regret their lives.
Duty was another that she found often. To a lord. A friend. A lover. Family. A feeling that you had to go out and be a savior because others needed you to be. Be it by command or oath or a need to live up to expectations. She had met plenty of young men who road off to battle for causes they didn't even truly believe in, purely because it was expected of them by someone they respected or loved.
Tragedy bred such heroics as well. Tony had become the Iron Man because of the attack by the bandits, after all. She had assumed that at the very least that would be why Gwen and maybe Petyr did what they did but she could see in their eyes that this wasn't the case.
A need to fill a hole in your life… a rare one but it happened. Her own husband, even if he wouldn't admit it, was the perfect example of that. Since his birth Jon had felt like there was something missing from his life, a way to move beyond being Ned Stark's bastard and becoming something else entirely. Being the Centurion gave him that opportunity to do something from out of the shadow of his family. That was part of the reason she suspected he'd fought so fiercely with Tony when he'd demanded Jon stop using the armor. It would have been like going to most men and demanding they cut off their hands or their cocks.
'But these three… they are motivated by the two most dangerous things of all,' Natasha thought to herself. 'The invincibility of Youth and the faith in goodness.'
Both were deadly. Far more so when combined together. Children always believed that nothing could harm them; that they would get out of any scrape or scare without even a bruise. It took time and experience to show how mad such a thought process was and even then there was a good chance that they would still be able to continue on even with such evidence to the fragility of their own existence.
'And faith is even worse. Faith drives people to do the impossible. To alter the world. To look at everyone when they told them 'no' and turn away and continue on. Fanatics, maniacs, and the deranged have all used faith in their cause to drive them into greater dangers' She sighed. 'And that is the last thing I want for any of these kids.'
Petyr, finally taking a seat, lazily looked over at Jon and Natasha. "So… I assume that you're either going to help us or tell us to stop. So… option a or b?"
The couple shared a look.
"B," Natasha admitted.
"Well, at least we can have a nice snack before we tell you thanks but no thanks for your advice," Miles said with a smile.
Jon let out a sigh. "I know you think you're helping but… you really aren't. You're just putting yourselves at risk needlessly."
"And you aren't?" Gwen argued. "You are doing the same thing we are. And don't give me that shit about you being older-"
"Language!" May snapped.
"Sorry," Gwen apologized. "Don't give me that… bull… about you being older than us so you're able to handle things."
"I was actually going to point out that I have armor that can withstand most blades and arrows. I think it might even withstand a scorpion bolt… I've tested it but never with me actually in it…" He shook his head. "But you three are running around in… what exactly?"
"It's a blend of different fibers," May said. "I helped make them. Before hand they were wearing cloth masks."
Natasha turned her focus on May. "I would think you'd be against this. They are fighting criminals-"
May waved off her concern. "They would have done it anyway, with or without my help. You mean to tell me you never decided to do something knowing that your parents would hate it and disagree with it but you were still going to do it?" She flashed her a tired smile. "These three… they have good hearts. And King's Landing needs more people like them willing to help out. Am I happy that they are fighting criminals? Of course not. It's the last thing I want…" And the smile was gone and it was replaced by a fierce and anger-filled glare. "It is the duty of the Goldcloaks to protect the smallfolk! But the likes of my husband are few and far between. Far more are cowards who want to look the other way rather than risk themselves! I want the Lords who claim they wish to aid their people to actually do that instead of seeing our misery as a form of control over the population. I wand the "Protector of the Realm" to get off the Iron Throne, remove his damn crown, and actually PROTECT!"
May stopped, taking a deep breath, willing herself to grow calm once more. Natasha and Jon allowed her that.
"That isn't going to happen though, is it?" she said softly. "I think the time of good lords and noble knights is gone forever. A new age has begun… one where it takes the least of us, the overlooked, to be heroes."
Jon shook his head. "I-"
"Am a bastard. Or were. A lord's trueborn son… he would never help us as you have."
"We aren't going to stop, Lord Jon," Petyr said.
"You need to," Jon argued. "Because what is coming… it isn't a simple criminal with a knife that can be scared off with you sticking to a wall. The Vulture King… he is beyond all of you."
"We've done good so far," Gwen said.
"Against common thugs," Jon repeated, getting a bit more fierce only for Natasha to place a hand on his arm, causing him to grow quiet.
"All we ask is you think about it, okay?" The three children nodded and Natasha could see that even though May didn't move in the slightest her eyes silently pleaded with the children to consider what Jon had said. Because while she supported them… she also wanted them to be safe.
As they walked back to the tunnel, the meeting over, Jon turned to Natasha. "You think they are going to consider what we-"
"No."
"…fuck."
"Yeah."
~MC~MC~MC~
OMAKE 1
No one in Winterfell wanted Robert or the royal family to visit. No one. It was going to cost money, disrupt many plans, and knowing Ned's luck kick off a war that would destroy the Seven Kingdoms and turn Caitlyn into some sort of undead vengeance seeking monster. Thus he'd done the only sensible thing he could think off:
Ask Robb, Theon, and Jon to get rid of them.
Which was why Cersei and Robert were standing a half day's ride outside of Winterfell staring at Robb, dressed as a farmer, standing with Jon, who was wearing only pants and some suspenders, and Theon, who was wearing some kind of animal pelt.
"You folks wanna touch the llama, huh?" Robb said with a smallfolk drawl, Theon just going "yeyeyeyeye" over and over while Jon… stared unblinking at the royal family. "Yeah, that's right. Ya wanna touch this old llama? You go right on ahead. You can touch this llama all ya want. You can touch the llama until ol' Hell freezes over, all Seven of'em! Heh! Not me though. No sir-e-bob. I wouldn't touch that old thing. He don't look no good."
"yeyeyeyeyeye," Theon said.
"Whew, smells kinda rank. But you can touch'em if ya want! Ain't no law that says ya can't! Ain't that right Jonny!" Robb turned to Jon… who was still staring, never blinking, right at the King and Queen. "Ain't that right Jonny? Ain't no law that says these folks can't touch this smelly old llama right? Right Jonny?"
Jonny, in the creepiest voice ever, merely said, "You people bring matches for Jonny?"
Robb's eyes went wide before he began to yell at the king and queen, much to their shock. "Shut up, Jonny! You shut up! Don't ya'll give no matches to Jonny! You hear me? YOU HEAR ME? Ya'll don't give Jonny no matches! I don't care what he does!" Jon began to pet Theon, whose eyes went wide with fear, his 'yeyeyeyeye' becoming more stressed. "I don't care if he sneaks in through your window buck naked with a knife! Don't you give Jonny no matches!"
Theon began screaming, eyes rolling back in his head while Jon began to hit himself with one hand while using the other to stroke Thoen's hair, Robb still screaming at the king and queen…
…who ran back South as fast as they could.
OMAKE 2
The wedding of Joffrey and Magaery was in full swing when Kevan called for everyone's attention. "I have some sad news to report. A small puppy was just run over by a carriage."
Joffrey smirked.
"it was dragged away so there is no corpse."
Joffrey became very sad like everyone else.
"And now the comedy styles of Jon Stark!"
"Are you ready to laugh?" Jon asked with a grin… not being able to read the room at all.
"That poor dog," Baelish said sadly.
"I said are you ready to laugh?" Jon asked again.
"Quiet you awful man," Lollys Stokeworth complained.
Jon just continued on with his jokes. "You know, Lord Tywin is sooooo cheap-"
"What?" Tywin said dangerously.
Jon stammered. "Uh… I mean… Lord Tywin is so old-"
"How dare you!" Tywin complained.
Jon grimaced. "Oooo. Tough crowd. Better bring out the big guns. Ahem… here is an impression of Lord Tywin you might find a little… cheeky."
And with that he dropped his pants to reveal he'd drawn two eyes and a frowning mouth on his own ass.
"I'm Lord Tywin. Blah blah blah." Jon wiggled his butt at the crowd. "Do this, do that, blah blah blah. Rains of Castamere, blah blah blah!"
"Destroy him," Tywin told the Kingsguard.
"Blah blah-OW!" Jon cried out as Loras Tyrell hit him on the head with a club.
"This party is over," Tywin declared, armed guards suddenly appearing and promptly beating up all the guests.
Later in his chambers Jon let out a sigh. "I'll never wiggle my butt in public again."
Gwen Stacy sighed. "I'd like to believe that this time. I really would."
Petyr though spoke up. "Jon, I know you're discouraged, but please, don't deny the world your can."
"Don't worry, boy. He'll be ready for Lady Catyln's nameday."
