Chapter Thirteen: Shattered Peace
A/N: apologies this one has taken a while...it's been a combination of being extremely busy and needing time to tie the next threads of the story together in the best way. Events are in motion and what happens before the King and Queen arrive is important here. It sets the scene for some nastiness to come...and I'm not just talking about Cersei arriving in the North!
This took me a while to piece together...I didn't want it to feel forced or unnatural but I needed a way to break up the Starks...and so it begins!
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Rhaegar stood gazing across the island of Naath on the terrace of their expansive residence. Built into the side of the volcano, from black rock, it was inconspicuous to any potential invaders and slavers. Even from the sea their home was not apparent which was the Naathi request to which Rhaegar wisely obliged. This helped keep their presence on the island secret to any who might have survived their venture to Naath. Baeron had grown so rapidly though that survivors were rarely left behind now, they needed to kill everyone who dared to venture to Naath to keep their existence secret. The dragons had no qualms obliging, and the boats of the deceased slavers were repurposed on the bay on the opposite side of the island. Dozens of ships collected there, Rhaegar had them repainted black and red, taught the Naathi how to repair and build boats. He paid them for it and a fruitful relationship had grown between the two vastly different cultures. They had been there for almost 13 years, building their lives, growing their family and securing Naath and its people. It was no easy task, it kept Rhaegar and Lyanna busy but neither of them forgot Westeros. Lyanna especially often pondered on Westeros, where their son was under the care and she hoped protection of her brother. As a precaution Rhaegar had forced Lyanna to shield their son from connecting to them, to keep him and them safe. Lyanna had vehemently opposed but conceded when she was reminded who sat on the throne and what he would do to their son if he was alerted his true identity. And so Lyanna conceded, shielding herself and their family from him but she thought of him every day. Wondering who he was and what he was doing at that point in time, sometimes it drove her into a dark mood because of the guilt she felt at leaving him. Rhaegar would coax her out of these moods with gentle words and affection but he knew deep down his wife wouldn't truly be whole until their son returned to their lives.
Rhaegar reflected on the past that lead them to this moment in time as he gazed across Naath. The people he brought with him lived happy, propserous, peaceful lives and their families in turn had also grown. A sense of pride washed over Rhaegar as he acknowledged the progress they had made. They had successfully existed alongside the Naathi peacefully in a union that benefited both cultures and navigated their differences from peace and unity. It heartened Rhaegar he was able to accomplish such a feat. Despite being lost in his thoughts, he sensed his wife behind him and turned to watch her approach him, she looked as beautiful as the day he laid eyes on her at the Tourney a lifetime ago. She approached with an eagerness in her eyes, something in her had been ignited and she looked to be bursting with joy. He hadn't seen that sparkle in her eyes for a long time.
He held out his arms to her and pulled her close to him enjoying the scent of her hair and the softness of her skin.
"It's happened Rhaegar," whispered Lyanna excitedly, "he had his first dragon dream. We must go to him, he's ready"
She looked up to him with such love, brightness and excitement and it crushed Rhaegar to have to oppose her.
"No," he answered simply, "it's not the right time. One dragon dream doesn't mean he's ready to face what is within him"
"Rhaegar listen Rhaenys and Rhaena were there too, they rode together the three of them. Just like Aegon did with Visenya and Rhaenys, just as you saw. Please," she pleaded, "since Ned took him North there is an emptiness in me, a hole no amount of happiness or joy will fill. I need him to know us, he needs to know who he is"
Rhaegar took a deep breath and gently moved some hair that had fallen across her face.
"I agree the time is approaching, but now is not the time. We have something else to do first," he saw the look of disappointment wash over Lyannas face. He gently lifted her chin to gaze into her eyes, "Grow that connection Lyanna, if he's waking and you've seen him he's let you in. Keep trying to make contact, this will make his awakening easier on him, but first there is something more pressing we have to deal with"
"What is more pressing than our son Rhaegar?" questioned Lyanna with a defensive undertone.
"If we are to ever take Westeros and keep it, we can't neglect what lies across the ocean from us. This is bigger than us, bigger than our son, bigger than everything. While Valyria remains broken we are never really whole"
"But the land is cursed you heard what he said-"
"I know what he said," interrupted Rhaegar, "it's calling me though Lyanna. You know what that's like, I know the snows call you, I know our son calls you. Imagine what you're experiencing and multiply it by a thousand and that's how strong the calling is for me. Something is there, waiting for me"
"I'm sorry, I don't agree. Our son needs us-" her voice began to heat up, her frustration rising. The wild wolf within her was growing.
Rhaegar exhaled loudly and turned back to gaze across the sea in the direction of Valyria.
"Drop the veil Lyanna, let our son connect to us more. We can't enter his life at this stage, you know as well as I do he must go north of the Wall. He hasn't done that yet, he's not ready for us yet" he spoke to her while gazing out to the horizon.
Lyanna sat with a huff on the end of their large bed which were overlooked with enormous golden gilded dragons and flanked either side with direwolves. Rhaegar looked back, her face was downcast, but stormy and defiant a crackle of sparks were at her fingertips. He knew his wife, she was as wild and defiant as she had always been, the years they spent together had not dulled that and Rhaegar liked that.
Slowly he crossed the room and knelt in front of his wife, they shared a charged look and tears welled up in Lyannas eyes. Rhaegar cupped one side of her face gently, "We are so much closer to being with him my Love, we knew it would take time but that time is slipping by us faster every day"
Lyanna smiled despite her tears and grasped his hand, "After everything we have seen and done Rhaegar this is the only thing that haunts me..."
"You made the right decision Lyanna," said Rhaegar firmly, "he is where he needs to be"
"He's in danger though Rhaegar..." she whispered through tears.
Rhaegar smiled sadly, "My love, until we return home, fix the cursed lands and take back what is ours, we are all in danger"
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The Naathi men worked hard on the docks below, the gold from the Targaryens helped grow their society and pulled families out of extreme poverty. Dozens of acquired slaver ships littered the peaceful bay on the other side of Naath. Makeshift docks had been made but work was underway to construct permanent docks to house the growing Targaryen fleet. The sound of wood cutting and hammering echoed across the bay. Every now and then a shout would be heard, or a command yelled by the leader of their work group. He stood out among the Naathi, completely foreign with white skin and long golden hair. Countless years had passed since he was shipwrecked after a failed mission to Valyria followed by years of imprisonment by the Naathi. His captors had warmed to him though which he was grateful for and despite himself he had come to think of the island as his home. When the Targaryens arrived he was worried what this meant for him, but upon laying eyes on him Rhaegar Targaryen had him freed and embraced him as an old friend. He reflected on that day, the look of shock that washed over the young Dragons face when he saw the shock of golden hair and familiar features staring back at him from behind bars.
"G-Gerion Lannister?" stuttered Rhaegar as he stepped closer. Rhaegar had instantly looked around to his Naathi counterparts and demanded he be freed. The pair were not close in Westeros, having only met a handful of times but both had known the other to be genuine and good of heart.
Gerion smiled as he reflected on his life since that day, recounting his voyage to the cursed lands of Valyria and how he had advised Rhaegar to stay away from there. Rhaegar in return had gifted him a boat and a crew to return to Westeros. Initially Gerion was set to leave, and stood on the prow staring at the world open and free in front of him. Yet all he felt was a pit in his stomach that told him to stay. Rhaegar's face had been even more shocked the day Gerion came to the young Dragon and pledged allegiance to him.
"But you're leaving? I've given you a boat and a crew to return to Tywin?" Rhaegar had said confused as he sat atop a luxurious golden dragon throne of three dragons entwined around one another.
"Tywin can wait, I want to remain here, with you"
He had knelt in front of the young Targaryen and spoken the words of allegiance to his House, the same words Loren Lannister had pledged to Aegon. Rhaegar had risen Gerion up with a tight embrace and a powerful friendship blossomed from there, the dragons and the lions united once more.
It had confused Gerion why after all these years he hadn't attempted to communicate with his own family but he had grown closer to Rhaegar's. He had no answer for this, he reasoned that this was the path he had been put on and on it he would remain. Rhaegar's children grew over the years and so did Gerions fondness of them. Lyanna had given birth to more children and Gerion found himself yearning for a family of his own too. Luckily Rhaegar had been kind enough to bring most of his retinue from DragonStone, the most loyal of them all. Among them were several related members of House Velaryon who were noble but low born. Their silver hair and purple eyes had stirred something within Gerion and before he knew what happened to him he was saying marriage vows with the prettiest of them all, Alaeyna.
And so life has blossomed in ways Gerion didn't expect, his own children came into the world and life rolled on for them all. As the slavers tried to attack and terrorise, the Dragons and the Lions would step in and protect the Naathi. Who in return would retrieve the ships and repair them, and so the Targaryen army had its beginnings.
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Night had fallen and the castle was quiet, guards stood silently across the battlements watching the darkness their breath forming clouds in front of them. The air was crisp and the wind blew lightly. Not a sound could be heard, tonight the wolves that usually prowled around the forests were silent. Out of the darkness several arrows whizzed towards their targets, cutting down the soldiers causing sprays of blood to explode from their throats. Their bodies dropped but didn't raise the alarm as their comrades were across the other side of the battlements on a seperate patrol. A rope was thrown over the castle walls and silently a small group clambered into the castle, their movements swift, silent and undetected. Dressed head to toe in black they whispered together quietly their plans, they each brushed their blades with their fingers and smiled maliciously. Tonight their enemy would fall, silently they slipped through the dark castle, all eight of them, one for each member of the family.
The sentries in their way were silently cut down raising no alarms, the bodies dragged into darkened corridors. Swiftly the assassins split apart, each seeking out their intended targets. Their instructions were simple, do not raise the alarm and kill all in your path until the objective is completed. Any servants unlucky to cross paths had their throat cut and their body dragged to a dark room or coridoor. The wolves would be a problem they'd been told but poisoned daggers will sort out the beasts, they'll be dead within a minute of being wounded. In preparation as the assassins reached the families chambers they drew their daggers and silently approached the rooms of their intended victims.
Arya couldn't sleep, something troubled her and she stared up at the ceiling frustrated she was unable to sleep. She'd given up tossing and turning hours ago, and simply taken to staring at the ceiling when Nymeria growled low and quiet. Arya sat up on her elbows in time to see Nymeria slowly get off the bed and stand behind Arya's door. Moments later the handle quietly moved but creaked all the same, swiftly Arya slipped from her bed and with a shaky hand grasped her dagger and sword. As the door slowly swung open she slipped behind it and watched a dark figure enter her room. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched the person approach her bed where she should lay sleeping. In the dark of night she watched their arms raise and bring down a shining dagger numerous times into her bed. Realising the bed was empty the assailant hissed and turned to exit the room, but as he turned Nymeria had leapt with a snarl. In one movement she ripped out his throat and he made to stab her with the dagger.
"No!" screamed Arya reaching out her hand for Nymeria and raising a wind to blow his strike off course. The dagger narrowly missed the wolf, the assassin lay on the floor blood pooling around them, twitching as they died. Arya was full of adrenalin, without a thought she stripped the assassin and hastily put on his clothes. Nymeria watched her with blood all down her front, Arya instinctively sniffed the sleeve of the assassins shirt looking for scent. She smelled a mix of individuals, raising her nose she caught them in the air but ever so slight.
"Come Nymeria, let's find the others there are more"
Ned and Catelyn were sleeping soundly, for the first time in a long time he had been able to go to sleep easily and deeply. Neds dreams became increasingly powerful, and tonight was no different. Usually he dreamt of the past, frequently of Ashara, but lately he had was in a foreign land watching foreign people. Tonight he was in that same place watching in wonder, when he heard a swooping above him and caught sight of an enormous gold and black dragon soaring around the island. Nobody seemed fazed about the dragon, then another one flew overhead, he blocked the sun from interfering with his vision and his jaw dropped. Circling above the island was a whole group of dragons, more than he had ever thought would be possible outside of Valyria.
"Beautiful isn't it?" spoke a woman from beside him.
In shock he startled and relaxed as he laid eyes on his sister, he settled somewhat but still felt on edge.
"Where is this place?" he asked in wonder.
Lyanna smiled, "Somewhere close enough to return but far enough not to be chased"
Ned smirked, he should've known she would never give up their location. She was too smart for that.
"He's waking Ned, it's time" she looked at her brother with her deep, soulful eyes.
Ned returned her gaze, "I know it's time, I just don't know what to tell him"
Lyanna smiled and looked back up at the dragons, "He won't find out from you Ned, it's time for my son to go North. The answers he seeks lies in the snows"
"North? Beyond the wall? But Lyanna, the dangers that are up there-"
She turned to her brother, "They're coming for us all, he must face it to find his purpose, to ignite the passion he needs to lead us. An important piece of him is waiting up there, he must go now and so should you"
Ned looked confused, "Me? Where am I going?"
"Back to your body, right now. Assassins are in the castle coming to kill your family, my son and all of you are in danger"
Before Ned had a chance to respond Lyanna reached up and touched him between his eyes and he immediately was back in his body. He sat up abruptly and grasped his sword, Catelyn stirred and Ned held his finger to her lips and pushed a dagger into her hand. Lyarra was already at the door, a snarl on her lips but silent, the wolf looked up to Ned as he saw the handle to his chambers moving. Ned grimaced as he thought of his children, defenceless in their beds, there was nothing he could do now. As the door opened he didn't bother hiding, completely naked he hadn't dressed and this is how faced both assassins. The moment they stepped foot in the room Ice flashed in the moonlight and the fight was on. His first strike disemboweled the first assassin, he fell to the floor and Lyarra promptly ripped out his throat. The second one hesitated and instead made for Catelyn, she remained in bed looking defenceless and scared. Ned rushed him as he leapt onto the bed and watched in horror as a dagger was brought down on Catelyn. She cried in pain as the dagger struck her right shoulder, gripping the hand of her attacker awkwardly she thrust her free hand up and lodged the dagger in her attackers neck. Blood spurted all over her as Lyarra struck, ripping the assassin from her and dragging his body bleeding heavily to the ground. Catelyn heaved in shock as the dagger remained in her shoulder blood pooling through her nightgown, her face was pale and stricken. Ned rushed to her side but she waved him away, "Ned, the children" she said weakly.
Without a word Ned sprinted from the room followed by Lyarra, he came across a servant and told them to raise the alarm. Attackers were in the castle, he ran down darkened corridors to the children's chambers. He almost slipped as he ran through smears of blood, stopping he looked to see Shaggydog growling over a body of what Ned hoped was an assassin. Running wild eyed into Rickon and Brans room he found the boys huddled together with Summer and an unconscious but still alive assassin on the other side of the room.
"Are you hurt?" he panted to the boys, Bran looked to Rickon who had tears running down his small face.
"Rickon is hurt father, but not in danger. Shaggydog stopped the worst of it. Go to the others, we have Summer"
Ned leaned forward and saw Rickon had cuts on his hands and arms, he had been defending himself. Fury boiled in his blood as he thought of how he had almost lost his youngest son. He whispered some calming words and cupped Rickon's face, the little boy shuddered some sobs and Bran pulled him closer giving Ned a pointed look.
"Father go the others need you"
"How did you survive son?"
Bran smiled a small haunting smile, "I saw them coming. Now go, it's almost too late"
Heart pounding in his chest he ran from the room, all he could think of was his children and their safety. Arya was nowhere to be found, he instantly was worried, there was a long smear of blood from her room. He found Sansa retching on the ground in her room, an attacker was struggling to breathe attached to vines which Sansas magic had wrapped around his neck. Relieved he pulled Sansa up to her feet and pressed her sword into her hand, she looked pale but gripped her sword firmly.
"Sansa I need you to fight with me"
Sansa looked into her Fathers eyes and he saw a resolute look grow in her eyes, with a cold glance to her attacker she ruthlessly pulled on the vine which shot from her hand. In one movement the vines tightened and a sickening crunch sounded as the assassins neck was snapped. He crumpled to the ground lifeless.
Ned turned and stormed into the dark coridoor, still naked except for his sword which gleamed in the moonlight. Sansa followed albeit feeling odd at following her fathers naked form into the dark. Ned and Sansa arrived at Jon, Robb and Theons rooms, here also blood smeared all over the floor. Theon was crumpled against the wall bleeding heavily, Ned leant down and checked his ward. A faint heartbeat, he breathed out in relief and gently patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't slip away Theon. Maester Lewin is coming"
Theon groaned almost inaudibly in response, Sansa was shocked and without thought knelt alongside Theon not caring for the blood that covered her legs. Almost slipping she sheathed her sword and knelt beside him, feeling his skin and pulse.
"Father he will die if we do nothing"
Ned looked down grimly, he didn't want to lose Theon he had come to care for the brash, arrogant lad. It would also do no good for the uneasy peace with the Iron islands either. To Neds amazement Sansa grew some herbs from her palm and made poultices to stem the bleeding and stave off infection. She pressed them gently against the worst of Theons wounds, he weakly groaned in protest and Sansa clicked her tongue and continued. As Ned stepped towards Robb's room he saw Sansa create some herbal concoction and push a magical flask to Theons mouth. The last thing he heard was Sansa scolding Theon that if he wanted to die to keep spitting out the potion. He smiled inside at her dry sense of humour.
Ned followed the blood trails into Robbs room almost slipping several times, Lyarra padded behind and growled ever so slightly causing Ned to ready his sword. Pushing into Robbs room, he found Jon and Robb holding back the last two attackers. Arya was across the room bleeding heavily from a wound in her side and grimacing in pain. This was all Ned needed to see, with one swing on Ice he decapitated the closest assassin and used the hilt of his sword to render the other unconscious. Jon and Robb looked exhausted, they both had slashes on their arms and their faces were splattered with blood. Ned looked down at the dead assassin, he had sustained a lot of injuries, he looked at his sons and they indicated Arya.
"She's the one who saved us, found an attacker and had Ghost and Greywind drag him to the room. If it wasn't for Arya we might not have survived" said Robb his face ghostly white from adrenalin.
"Where's Nymeria?" questioned Ned, worried.
Arya groaned, "I sent her to get help" she said with difficulty. Ned exhaled loudly and crossed the room embracing both his boys struggling to keep himself from emptying his stomach on the floor from worry. His family almost fell tonight and they would have if they didn't have extraordinary talents.
"He's a Bolton," said Arya as she grimaced in pain, Jon threw a cloak at Ned, "smell it".
Ned put the cloak aside and crossed the room to Arya and helped her move to the bed where he laid her down and checked her wound. It was a nasty wound in her side, not life threatening but nasty.
"Robb get Sansa she's outside tending Theon"
Without a word Robb rushed out to get Sansa returning with her a moment later, he was still pale and running on adrenalin of the life and death attack.
Sansa saw Arya's wound across the room and rushed to her sisters aide conjuring herbs and creating a liquid from herbs for Arya to drink. Ned sank to a chair and gratefully accepted a cloak from Robb, he grasped the cloak Jon had given him and sniffed it. Immediately he got the scent of Roose Bolton, these were from the dread fort and were his men, he just knew it. He sighed as he knew this wasn't enough to point the blame but this was undeniable. First blood had been drawn, whether it was tomorrow or next year war was coming for the North.
The assassins who survived but were unconscious were taken to the crypts, the family members who weren't gravely injured collected down there. Catelyn had her shoulder bandaged and her arm in a brace, Jon, Robb and Bran looked grave. Torches flickered all around them as they ringed the two living assassins, Ned was a mixture of emotions. He knew discontent was brewing, he had forewarning there was danger to his family but he didn't ever expect to be attacked in their own home while they slept. Lyarra, Greywind and Ghost sat in front of Ned, Robb and Jon glaring down at the assassins, all were bloodstained. Luckily no wolves were injured, Lyarra stared intently at the men while Greywind and Ghost begun licking the blood on their fur.
"What are we doing Father?" asked Robb shakily.
"We will make them talk" was all Ned replied
"What if they don't talk?" questioned Jon barely containing his anger, glaring down at the men who had begun to groan and stir.
"We have ways of making them talk in the North" said Ned seething.
"Dont torture them Father" said Bran suddenly.
Ned looked up sharply, anger and fury on his face. Bran faltered before speaking again, "Let me make them talk"
"How do you plan on doing that son?" replied Ned as one man rolled to his side and spat up blood.
Bran simply smiled, "I can enter their minds and show them whatever I want them to see. If they're Bolton men like you suspect torture won't scare them and it won't make them talk either"
Ned still seething stared at the ground for several moments before nodding and looking to Bran.
"Very well, make them talk Bran. Let's see if your way is better than mine"
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Ned paced his darkened office, the only light was from a low fire which had been burning before he had retired to bed. Guards had been killed on watch, assassins had entered the castle and no other patrol was alerted. It was opportunistic but an attack all the same and couldn't have been orchestrated without inside help. This infuriated Ned the most, his home and the home of his children had been tarnished tonight. Usually calm and level headed that was out the window now, he wanted revenge and he wanted blood. No matter how hard Bran and Ned had tortured the surviving assassins in the crypts, they gave up no information. This angered Ned no end, and he had in the end decapitated the men in frustration.
Robb, Jon, Sansa and Bran were the ones who were least injured in the attack. They sat across the room in different states of shock, Sansas breath was ragged from the adrenalin and all the boys stared at the floor in front of them. Ned all the while paced in a rage. Maester Lewin knocked and entered his face grave, Ned stopped to look at the Maester and by the look on his face knew it was bad news.
"We have found over a dozen guards and servants murdered my Lord, this was definitely a calculated attack planned with help. No one could've picked those patrols, until recently they were different. As for the servants they were...hidden in rooms and concealed until we searched the castle. Whoever carried this out had plans of the castle or someone who instructed them where to hide bodies," he cleared his throat and stepped forward towards Ned, "Lord Stark your House is compromised"
Neds fury exploded and he swept everything off his desk shattering glasses and sending papers fluttering through the room. All the children present startled at his unusual show of anger and Maester Lewins forehead creased together in concern. Slowly he stepped forward and placed a hand on Neds shoulder as he hung his head and heaved angered sobs.
"We will find them," said the Maester gently, "but until that time..."
"My House is no longer safe," interjected Ned through gritted teeth, "my wife gravely injured, two of my children stabbed almost to the death, my ward close to actual death..." Ned stood and looked at his children present and exhaled loudly.
"It seems I have to accelerate my plans my young wolves. With our House and home in danger I cannot let you stay here, if you fall the future of our House is in peril. Tonight you will leave, you three," he indicated to Jon, Robb and Sansa, "immediately. Maester send servants to discreetly pack their things and send them in the morning. Ready some horses and guards to leave in the dead of night"
Maester Lewin nodded in agreement and exited the room hastily, Ned looked over his eldest children.
"I cannot risk your lives, and we cannot waste time to give our enemies time for a second attack. They targeted me and all of you, if you're gone they can't hurt you"
"What about Arya, Rickon and me?" asked Bran.
"Arya was meant to go to Dorne but with her injuries she's in no state to be sent away. For now you'll remain under heavy guard until we can make alternative plans"
Bran opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Robb who had suddenly looked up.
"Where are we going Father"
Ned sighed and produced two scrolls, he unrolled them and showed his children.
"This is an alliance between the Starks and House Lannister, Robb you'll be going west," then Ned turned to Sansa, "and Sansa this is an alliance between us and the Tyrells. You'll be going to the Reach, Lady Olenna is expecting great things from you"
Sansa nodded, still in shock and processing that they'd been attacked and now she was being sent away.
"What about Jon Father? Where is he going?" asked Robb when he realised he only saw two scrolls. Ned looked uncomfortable and instead walked around to the front of his desk and sat in front of the children.
"Jon was given a House to ward with but he chose different for himself-" as Ned was about to say more several guards burst into the room. Ned stood immediately, and noticed the blood on their faces.
"There's more," breathed a guard, "there's fresh attackers in the castle. We must get you all to safety right now!"
"Where's Catelyn and the other children?" demanded Ned.
"We escorted them to the crypts. We decided it was the safest place for the time being until we know numbers of how many we are facing"
"Take the children to the crypts-" began Ned, ready to issue numerous commands.
"Father wait!" said Robb.
"No Robb I need to keep you all safe!" interrupted Ned
Robb shook his head," No Father, listen there are passages. Secret ones, Bran and I made them recently. We can leave from the crypts"
Ned looked at his son intently, "And where do they end?"
"In the North at Castle Black and in the South at Moat Cailin"
"Does anyone else know of these passages?"
Robb and Bran shook their heads, Ned turned to his men.
"Send six of your best men, escort my children they know where to go"
The soldier nodded and rushed into the darkness, Ned made to follow before turning back at his children.
"Stay safe young wolves, I promise we will be together again soon. Remember the Old Gods and remember I love you"
Without another word he swept from the room leaving his shocked children behind. Bran stared after him intently while Jon, Sansa and Robb exchanged worried glances. Jon absentmindedly fiddled with the necklace of his mother's which was strung around his neck, anxiety bubbling in his gut.
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Catelyn sat in the darkness with two injured children and Bran, several servants surrounded them whispering quietly in the dark and guards stood at each end of the corridor. Arya bravely clutched her sword and dagger but grimaced every few minutes from the pain of her fresh wound. Catelyn felt nothing but pain and anxiety, she hated the damp dark crypts and she detested being injured herself. The wound in her shoulder ached constantly like someone held a hot brand in the wound and twisted when she began to feel comfortable. Every so often she could hear the clash of swords and shout of men, Ned had hurriedly brought down the last of their people to shelter before rushing back into the fight. She hadn't even said goodbye to her husband, she had looked after him walking with his bloodstained sword with worry and fear etched on her face. Minutes felt like hours and Catelyn constantly felt in danger, something in her was screaming danger but everything that the family had been through was danger. She told herself she was just stressed from being attacked, and the floodgate of that moment opened in her mind and she felt the man on top of her again slashing down into her body. Her heart rate raised and she felt like she wanted to just run, the only thing that settled her was a cool hand that gently rested on her arm suddenly. Shocked she looked to Bran, his soulful eyes shining in the darkness she looked into his eyes for a moment before pulling him into an embrace and sobbing from the mountain of emotions within her. After a few minutes Bran pulled back and looked up to her, he held weapons in both his hands. Catelyn looked down in confusion, "Bran what is this?"
"Mother in a few minutes you need to take Rickon and run into the back of this tomb."
"What? Why Bran?" she looked intensely at her son who remained expressionless.
"We are not safe" was all he replied, immediately Catelyn looked up to the guards at the end of the passage. She just caught a glimpse of a guard falling and being dragged away, immediately she grabbed Rickon hard and scrabbled into the back of the tomb. When would this terror end? Rickon began to cry and she roughly grabbed his face to hold him quiet, the boy struggled against her until her heard the screams of servants being attacked. Rickon immediately quietened and snuggled deep into Catelyns side causing her to grimace from the fresh pain in her wound his movement brought. Arya and Bran huddled against each other whispering inaudibly to Catelyn, she wanted to drag them into her hiding place with her, but chaos had broken out. Servants ran in every direction, many were armed and the fighting had loudly broken out, women were screaming which echoed loudly around the crypts along with the clash of arms. One of the enemy laughed maniacally as he slashed his way towards the Stark children.
"Where are the little wolves?" he laughed, "Come out come out little wolves!! It's been too long since a Stark was flayed..." his words were cut off by several Stark men attacking him.
Catelyns anxiety continued to rise as she watched her children get swarmed by the fight, wanting to yell out she held her voice and huddled with Rickon in the safety of the crypt. She didn't know how long she was safe here for and she tunnelled further into the resting place of an ancient Stark. It would be better to shelter with the dead than to join them, and so despite the pain and the stench of death Catelyn and Rickon huddled in hiding as the fighting raged around them.
Despite the agony in her side Arya was ready to fight, she had two visible weapons, one in each boot and a throwing knife stabbed through her bun. Bran had told her his plan, he had told her they would be attacked on the way into the crypts and she had laughed. She wasn't laughing now, they were coming and they wanted the Starks. One in particular had his eyes on them, and his gaze was cold and cruel, she could easily read his loud, blood lust thoughts. They sent a shiver down her spine, this one had to die tonight she thought. Bodies swarmed all around them as the servants fought bravely to protect them. Several attackers got through and Arya cut them down. Every one she killed she heard him laugh, every one that fell he sounded closer. Suddenly everyone attacking the Starks fell to their knees, hands over their ears screaming in agony, they writhed on the ground. The Stark servants froze for a moment as did Arya, blood dripped from her dagger onto the floor at her feet. Her face was covered with blood and dust, she looked all around her in shock. Her gaze came to rest on Bran, he was also covered in blood his dagger was still in the chest of the last man who set upon him. Yet now he was perfectly still, eyes rolled back in his head milky white staring. Arya rushed to his side and checked he was still alive, which he was and un injured too. Quickly Arya realised Bran had rendered the attackers defenceless.
"Quick!" yelled Arya panting from exertion and adrenalin, "they can't fight!! Kill them all!"
Without a thought she slit the throat of the nearest man writhing on the floor near her feet, he gurgled as his life slipped away. Arya didn't stop to check if he survived, she savagely ran from person to person slashing her dagger on them until they stopped writhing and screaming. The women servants scurried into hiding while Arya and the men disposed of the screaming, writhing attackers. At last Arya reached her nemesis, immediately she knew he was noble born, it pleased her to watch him thrash around in pain. Unlike the others though he didn't scream, this one can handle pain. With a smile she brought her dagger down just to hear him howl but to keep him alive. He will be the one she gives to her Father.
Ned had lost track of time, his everything hurt. He'd put more men to sword than he could count, the bodies were piling up from both sides. Finally Jory Cassel and Ned ripped their swords from the lifeless attackers and looked around the yard, bodies lay piled around. The men panted with exhaustion, covered in blood as they regarded each other.
Ned looked around, "I never in my life thought I'd see so many Northeners dead from fighting one another"
Jory looked around grimly, "Life has a way of bringing you things you never thought you'd see"
Ned nodded with a small smile, "Aye, tell me Jory where are they from?"
Jory stepped over the bodies and pointed, "Umber men here, Bolton there," he glanced up at Ned this one he won't like, "Karstark"
Ned turned away angered, he expected treachery from the Bolton's and had suspected the Umbers of following but not the Karstarks.
"Who else Jory?"
"Glover"
Ned spat on the floor, betrayal was hardest to take from the ones closest to him and House Glover had been close to him.
"Why Jory? What the fuck have I done?"
Jory shrugged, "Why does anything bad happen? You have something they want"
He picked through the corpses and removed valuables, pulled some gold teeth grimacing as he lays his eyes on the faces of men he knows.
Ned watches as the surviving soldiers do the same.
"If you find anything that will give me answers men hand it over"
The soldiers nodded as they removed valuables from the fallen enemies, many of whom they had grown up playing sword fighting with or drunk with as adults. Some they had fought with side by side during Roberts rebellion, now their blood was spilled and their lives over.
Several soldiers ran up to Ned, he turned and watched them immediately looking exhausted.
"Don't tell me there's more," he started.
"No my Lord, all are dead. But the crypts were attacked-"
Ned didn't wait to hear what his men had to say, he ran straight to the crypts ignoring how sore and tired his body was.
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The cold wind bit Jon's face as he emerged from the hidden passage in the cliff face, Benjen crunched past his nephew and stood by Jon's side. Jon looked up in awe, the wall loomed out of the darkness in front of him. His eyes wide he took in the sight of it in front of him.
"It's always like this when one first sees the wall," said Benjen with a smile, "after a while it loses its- charm. When you're freezing your ass off on patrols on top of that thing in the dead of night you don't feel so in awe of it then" laughed Jon's uncle.
Jon smiled and swallowed hard, had he made a mistake? Why did he feel the anxiety growing in his gut? Benjen saw the look on Jon's face and the look he might be sick at any moment. He slapped Jon on the back.
"Nephew," he said gently, "want to go back? The choice is yours and yours alone, it's not too late to change your mind."
In Jon's mind he heard a screech and the flap of leathery wings, he saw the great Weirwood tree that was in his dreams every other night. He felt something calling to him, something over the wall. The anxiety dropped away, and he looked up to his Uncle.
"Take me to the Watch" he spoke with authority and confidence, Benjen smiled and Jon saw his eye catch sight of the diamond around his neck.
Benjen's gaze changed from jovial to serious in an instant, he gently grasped the diamond ring on the necklace and turned it over in his fingers. Jon was confused.
"It was my mother's" he said simply and Benjens gaze sharply met his.
"Who gave this to you?"
"Lady Catelyn, I wanted to speak with Father about her before I left but-"
Benjen gently released it but continued to gaze at it, "I understand you and my other nieces and nephews have talents. Have you tried looking within this necklace to find out something of her"
Jon looked to the ground and shuffled uneasily, Benjen clicked his tongue and gently grasped his hand on Jon's shoulder. Jon looked up into his Uncles eyes, the jovial glint had returned along with a slight smile.
"Don't be afraid of what you'll find young one, sometimes the truth isn't that scary"
"I, I think I've been dreaming about her but I can't be sure"
Benjen turned his head slightly to the side, "Dreams?"
Jon nodded and explained about the woman with the Grey eyes riding the dragon. How in his heart he knew she was his mother but he was confused. He had always thought his mother low born, a commoner with nothing to her name. Someone born so low she could have her child taken from her without a thought and do nothing to get him back.
"Did these dreams start when you got this?" said Benjen seriously pointing to the necklace
Jon shook his head, "I had my first dream just before Catelyn gave it to me, but after-" he paused and Benjen leaned forward in interest, "after they got more intense, sometimes she speaks to me"
"What does she say?"
Jon shrugged, "I can't remember, when I wake up everything in my mind just disappears"
Benjen stared intensely at his nephew for a moment longer, he grasped the diamond again and looked into its blue depths.
He released the necklace and without a word began to hike down the rocky slope towards Castle Black.
"Did you know her?" Jon called after his uncle, he saw Benjen turn his head back slightly and pause for a moment before continuing down the slope. Jon's stomach was in knots, once again he didn't get a straight answer.
"Please," he pleaded to Benjen, "just tell me did you know her"
Benjen stopped his descent and turned to look up at Jon, his face was serious again. Internally Benjen struggled with what to say and how to say it, he cursed this attack on Winterfell for robbing his brother the chance to speak with Jon before departing.
"Aye I knew her Jon"
Jon staggered awkwardly down the snowy peak to face his uncle, "Tell me who she is. I need to know...who I am and where I'm from"
Benjen sighed and looked down to his feet in the snow for several minutes.
"I can't tell you everything you seek. The answers are waiting for you-"
"Beyond the wall?" interjected Jon.
Benjen looked up with an eyebrow raised.
Jon's face flushed, "I've seen something beyond the wall, in my dreams"
"Your mother made a great sacrifice so you could be standing here today, to face whatever destiny is lying in the snows for you. It seems you've figured out she's alive, I won't rob you of the opportunity to find out who she is for yourself. You're closer to knowing the truth than you realise"
Jon felt tears stinging in his eyes, "She's alive?"
Benjen reached out and gently grasped the ring again, Jon gazed at it also.
"Sometimes we need to discover the truth of things for ourselves to truly appreciate their meaning in our lives. Next time she talks to you, talk back Jon. The truth is waiting for you to find it"
Releasing the ring somewhat reluctantly Benjen turned and continued to make his way down the slope, Jon followed the whole time reminding himself the truth was out there waiting, now he had to find it. Snow fell all around him, as if welcoming him to the far North, he trudged through the snowy downpour every step with renewed confidence he was ready for what was to come. The snow fell down over him coating his hair turning it from brown to silvery white as he walked toward whatever laid in wait for him here.
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Sansa and Robb scurried through the dark passageway following the soldiers who carried torches. Two guards ran in front of them and four flanked them from the rear. In the rush neither had packed many belongings, just their weapons and some clothes. Everything else had to wait, it wasn't important when their lives were being targeted. Sansa stayed close to her brother as they rushed towards safety, south of Winterfell. Their attackers hadn't followed them into the crypts, they hadn't noticed the young Starks leaving at all.
It felt like hours had passed and the sight of the torch bobbing along in front of Robb and Sansa began to frustrate them both. They wanted to be back above the surface, away from danger and breathing in fresh air. Suddenly the torch stopped and the flames immediately dropped from the lack of air feeding it during their rushed escape.
Robb held Sansa back with his arm as they exchanged looks, what could possibly be holding them up in here? Robb heard the sound of swords being drawn and met Sansas worried gaze. If they were attacked in here there was no escape, they would be outnumbered and defeated easily.
Before Robb knew what was happening the men meant to be guarding them had turned, swords out and menacing gleams in their eyes. Frantically Robb looked to the men behind them, but they had turned just the same.
"Sansa, sword" was all Robb said as he launched an attack. His sword whizzed and crackled with sparks of fire as he defended and stabbed his way through the enemies. He could hear Sansa fighting directly behind him, and the sound of bodies dropping. Internally Robb was grateful for his Father putting a sword in her hand, without it they'd both be corpses already. With a flick of his wrist Robb spun the sword around his wrist and it glowed blinding bright as flames erupted from the end. Robb spun around an attack and flicked the sword over his head, a long spurt of fire exploded from the end of the sword and he used it as a whip. Lashing the men ahead of him and Sansa, burning them and using the flame like a knife to slice through their throats. Sansa was bravely fighting off three men, she had cuts up her arms and tears streamed down her face yet she didn't stop the fight. When the last of Robbs opponents were disposed of he turned and helped his sister, within minutes the Stark siblings stood panting and exhausted, with a pile of bodies around their feet in the dark tunnel.
Sansa bent over and retched all over one of the dead men, and pulled his cloak aside to reveal his allegiance.
"Bolton here, Umber here," and she paused, "Glover"
Robb spat as she spoke, anger rising in him and making the torches that now lay on the ground flare up in intensity. Momentarily the red glow illuminated the bodies and several were moving.
"Let's go Robb, we can travel without men. Let's go now" said Sansa emphasising that they needed to leave.
"We can't let them live Sansa, if one of them goes back to Roose Bolton and tells him about these passages our family will be slaughtered easily. You take care of those ones and I'll do these" and without a thought Robb struck every body through the throat who wasn't already mortally wounded there. When he knew they were definitely dead, he turned and saw Sansa grimacing as she slit the last mans throat and he fell lifeless to the ground.
Both siblings were covered in blood, Robb nodded once at Sansa and she stood, wiping her dagger on her clothes before sheathing it. Robb looked around, "we need to continue sister, how we will I don't know but we will find a way"
"Burn the bodies Robb, I'm sure you can do that. And as for how we'll travel i have some ideas"
Robb smiled at Sansa, he couldn't believe these events were happening. Everything in their lives had changed in an instant, and he was thankful he had Sansa with him. Robb stood amongst the bodies of the dead and focused his breath, palms facing outward he slowly raised his arms outward and up. As he moved flames leapt out of his arms and swirled through the air, they landed on the bodies of the men they thought were protecting them and flames erupted from their bodies. Ensuring all the dead were burning Robb turned to Sansa grimly and walked away, the flames of the dead burning bright behind them illuminating their path.
Emerging out of Moat Cailin was a welcome feeling for them both, they both breathed in large breaths and smiled at the moon shining down on them. They were shocked to see an enormous pack of wolves waiting for them, led by Greywind and Lady. Sansa dropped to her knees and embraced Lady fiercely, burrowing her face into her fur and crying tears of happiness. Robb smiled and stroked Greywinds back as he looked at the huge number of wolves there.
"Please don't tell me we are going to ride a wolf to our wards. They already think we are wolf barbarians," laughed Robb as Sansa approached him with Lady.
Sansa shook her head, "It would be quite a way to arrive. But no, that's not what I was thinking"
Robb looked at Sansas smile with confusion, "Well...what is your idea then?"
"You will ride a horse, but I will need that horse when we part ways"
Robb nodded still not understanding, making Sansa laugh and shake her head. Right before Robbs eyes his sister changed shape into a tall and slender chestnut mare. She stomped her hoof and shook her mane gracefully, Robbs mouth gaped open as he ran his hand along the horses neck.
"Get on my back Robb" he heard her voice booming in his mind, he hesitated for a moment before swinging himself up onto the back of the horse and holding on tight as she galloped swiftly into the night. Greywind and Lady followed behind as the wolf pack remained in the North howling as the small pack departed.
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The journey north had been uninterrupted and unhindered by difficulties, Cersei despised it all the same. She did not want to be in the North, visiting these people. In her mind if her family had never aligned with them in the past they were of no use to her now. Instead of voicing her thoughts to her husband like she used to, now she had learned to simply watch and keep her thoughts to herself. She saw so many more things when she simply observed, the slight change in facial expressions, people muttering under their breath. She saw it all, and filed it away for later. She mused on these things while the carriage bumped its way North, every now and then her children demanded her attention breaking up her thoughts.
After what felt like a lifetime Winterfell loomed in the distance, she saw Robert eagerly urge his horse forward to meet the Stark sentries. With interest Cersei noticed several of the men sustained injuries, her keen eyesight focused in on their bruises and gashes. The men exchanged quiet words with Robert who's face turned grim. Suddenly he broke into a gallop with the sentries and Cersei's carriage slowly rolled forward in their wake.
Cersei's interest was piqued, injuries meant an attack and an attack highlighted a weakness. Could the Starks be weakened? Should they be replaced? She didn't believe weakness should be tolerated in the Wardens, it was their job to keep their regions peaceful, and above all loyal to the crown. Lost in her thoughts she watched Wintertown roll past and before she knew it, the carriage was rolling to a stop inside the castle walls.
Slowly and gracefully she stepped from the carriage and smiled slightly at the gasps of awe from the small folk who were present in the yard. Her long red and gold gown hugged her body tightly and trailed behind her into the carriage. She looked around the yard and was surprised at the grandeur of the castle she stood in. Cersei had always assumed the northerners were barbarians who lived in squalor, she was proved wrong.
Her gaze swept around her, calculating and cold resting on Ned Stark and his wife. They stood in the yard to receive their royal guests, wolves sitting at attention beside them as if they belonged in such a setting. She slightly curled up her lip in distaste, feral beasts had no place in meeting a King and Queen.
Robert and Ned were talking in hushed tones while Catelyn stood beside him her face expressionless, while Arya, Bran and Rickon were arranged on either side. Cersei noted the absence of three Stark children and it became apparent to her quickly there had been some kind of attack. This immediately piqued her interest, if someone had attacked they obviously thought the Starks to be vulnerable otherwise they wouldn't dare. Maybe it was time for the North to change who held power, and with the right assistance whoever dared to grab it would have utmost loyalty to her and the crown.