A/N: Sorry for the brief delay, but I didn't have access to a computer yesterday. As for notes, normally, the sigil of House Stark is a direwolf, but since direwolves don't exist in any of the Elder Scrolls games, I demoted it to just a regular wolf. Also, there are spoilers in this chapter if you haven't finished the Dark Brotherhood questline in Skyrim. Just so you know. Enjoy reading. Many thanks to my beta reader (and sister) GrowlingPeanut. Reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. It all belongs to Bethesda Softworks and George R. R. Martin.

Rating: T for minor language and the consumption of alcohol.

When Gendry awoke the next morning, he was relieved to find that neither the Hound nor Sansa Stark was anywhere to be seen. At the moment, he wasn't concerned with the reward he could earn by bringing her back to General Lannister. His only thought was of Arya Stark and her promise of death.

With that in mind, he continued on his journey, determined to reach Solitude before nightfall and demand an audience with the general. Once he heard what he had to say, he would listen; of that, Gendry had no doubt.

He traveled light and made good time to Dragon Bridge where he stopped for lunch at the Four Shields Inn, allowing himself to relax with a tankard of ale as he listened to the various conversations around him.

"I heard they still haven't caught the murderer up in Windhelm." It seemed no news out of Windhelm was good news. At least it wasn't word of another Stormcloak victory.

"Did you know that the Jarl of Riften apparently sold his sister to the owner of one of the big caravans?" Gendry didn't even know that the Jarl of Riften had a sister.

"I've been thinking, and...well, what if that Stark girl left with the Hound because she...wanted to?" That, he could easily believe. She hadn't seemed to mind his company. The Starks and Lannisters alike had their motives for hoping she had been taken forcefully, but the commoners who had seen them since the burning of King's Landing were beginning to realize the truth.

"There was some sort of massacre at one of the Imperial forts, somewhere near Whiterun..." Gendry looked around for the man who was speaking and then walked over with his tankard in hand.

"I'm sorry, ser, but did I hear you say something about a massacre at a Legion fort?"

The Nord looked away from the woman he was talking to and nodded. "Aye, lad. One of the smaller branches of the war effort, so I'm told. Nobody seems to know who did it, but an Imperial scouting group ran across it and everyone inside was dead. Not a soul left alive. Brutally slaughtered, so they say." He finished off his drink and then shrugged. "I say good riddance." He raised his tankard and bellowed drunkenly toward the barkeep. "To Ulfric!"

Gendry retreated back to his table and finished his drink in contemplative silence. Unless the Stormcloaks had led a raid against another fort near Whiterun, then the massacre he spoke of was the result of Arya's assault on Gallows Rock. If news had already made it this far west, then it was likely to have been heard in Solitude. That would only make General Lannister more inclined to listen.

He left the tavern in better spirits than he'd arrived and reached the gates of Solitude nearly two hours later, staring up at them as they slowly opened, remembering the first and last time he had been to Castle Dour. Little had he known then that his assignment to the Silver Hand would so drastically change his life.

The city was much as he remembered: busy, always filled with color and conversation, and almost always in motion; just as a capital should be.

His Imperial armor earned him friendly greetings from those who passed and gained him swift entry through the gates of Castle Dour. He was stopped at the door to its interior by a member of the Penitus Oculatus, the personal guard of the recently murdered Emperor Titus Mede II. Until the question of succession had been settled, they had been invited to stay at Castle Dour. Gendry assumed that Lannister would make good use of them if the need arose.

"State your business, soldier."

"I have come to speak with General Lannister," Gendry replied, straightening himself to his full, and superior, height. "It is a matter of grave importance."

"Is the General expecting you?"

Gendry faltered. "No, but he'll want to see me. Tell him I have news about the Stark girl."

At that, the agent hesitated. "Wait here. If he agrees to see you, you will be summoned."

He turned and walked through the doorway behind him, leaving Gendry outside to wait. He hoped this effort wouldn't turn out to be a waste of his time.

A few minutes later, a woman that Gendry vaguely recognized opened the door and gestured him in. "General Lannister will see you now."

Tywin Lannister was in the same room that he had been on the day he had first met with the young bastard seeking to rise above his name. He was leaned over the map across the table and surrounded by his advisers. The only one that Gendry recognized besides the woman was the General's youngest son, Tyrion. The dwarf was seated in the corner looking decidedly bored as he inspected his fingernails and pointedly ignored what his father was saying.

"With Riften now on the side of the Stormcloaks, it is even more imperative that Tyrion's plan is successful. If it fails, it could mean an end to this damn war, and not in our favor."

He was cautiously interrupted by the woman at Gendry's side. "General, this is the soldier that requested to speak with you."

Tywin looked up and regarded him for a moment without any trace of recognition in his eyes. It wasn't as though Gendry had expected to be remembered, but the blank stare was nonetheless a blow to his ego.

"What's your name, boy?" His tone was disinterested and condescending and Gendry bristled at the blatant insult.

"Gendry. Gendry Waters."

"Waters?" Tywin seemed to lose what little interest he'd had and went back to evaluating the map before him. "Were you the one whose mother was a whore?" He didn't give Gendry time to reply as he answered more to himself. "No, wait, that's all of them."

The young bastard balled his hand into a fist and was only stopped from action by a stern look from the woman he now remembered to be Legate Rikke. She was Lannister's closest adviser and one of the highest ranked officers in the Legion army. And, as a Nord, she was a valuable asset.

"I was told you had news on Sansa Stark. Did you see her somewhere? Is she still alive or has the Hound already broken her?"

Although he had the news that General Lannister wanted to hear, he decided to withhold it out of spite for the comment regarding his mother. The fact that it was true made it all the more painful to hear. If Sansa Stark had decided to leave with the Hound of her own will, then that was her own business. She didn't need to be turned in to the Legion just because they didn't agree with her choice.

"Not Sansa Stark. Arya Stark."

At that, Tywin looked up again and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Arya? She hasn't been seen since her father was executed. What threat does she pose to the Legion?"

"Have you heard about the Silver Hand fort outside of Whiterun that was brutally slaughtered? Gallows Rock?" He could tell by the looks on the faces of his advisers that the rumor had reached Solitude before his arrival, so he continued. "That was her."

Tywin stayed silent for a moment, regarding Gendry with a calculating expression before speaking again. "Waters. You were the one that joined the Silver Hand."

"I was the one that was sent to the Silver Hand," he corrected. "Because of my name."

Tyrion looked up from his spot in the corner and fixed his mismatched eyes on the young soldier, a pensive expression on his face. He looked as though he had something on his mind, but ultimately kept silent.

Tywin ignored the pointed comment and absently picked up one of the blue flags pinned to the map in front of him. "You're telling me that a girl who can't be older than thirteen went and murdered an entire fort of Legion soldiers? You may all be incompetent fools, but I expect you can hold your own against that sort of a...threat."

A few of his advisers snickered. Gendry refrained from mentioning that Arya was fifteen.

"You should know why the Silver Hand was created, ser," he replied levelly, trying to keep his temper in check.

"It was created to keep the Imperial Legion free of cripples, bastards, and broken...things." He said it with obvious distaste.

Gendry ignored him. "It was created to look into the rumours regarding werewolves in Skyrim."

At that, Tywin looked almost amused. "And tell me, boy, did you find them? These beasts of legend."

"Yes. And she's one of them. That's how she killed them all. And now she's looking to kill all of the rest of the Imperial Legion as revenge."

"Arya Stark is a werewolf?"

He nodded.

"Weren't you stationed at Gallows Rock, Waters?"

He nodded again.

"Then how did you manage to escape this...beast that you claim is Arya Stark? If she's hoping to end us all, then surely she didn't let you just leave unharmed."

"I was in a...unique position," he replied. "I ran away. And came straight here."

The General shook his head and gave an impatient gesture of dismissal. "Get this boy out of my sight."

Legate Rikke put a hand to his arm and made to pull him forcefully out the door when they were stopped by a voice from one of the other men in the room.

"There are rumours that Robb Stark transforms into a wolf at night and rips his enemies apart with fangs nearly as big as daggers. They say that's how he got his name."

A few of the others murmured quietly in agreement and Tywin looked around with unmasked disgust.

"Are you telling me that you believe this useless fairy story?"

The soldier that had spoken up looked down at his feet and then shrugged. "I'm just saying that...well, maybe he is right, ser. Maybe all of the Starks are those...things..."

"The sigil of House Stark is a wolf. That's where the likeness ends," General Lannister replied sternly.

Another man continued solemnly in his fellow adviser's defense. "They used to jest in the guard barracks behind his back that the Hound was a werewolf. Maybe it's true. Maybe that's why he took the other girl."

Gendry was glad that their own fear of the unknown was fueling the fire behind his own claims. Even if the idea of Sansa Stark being a werewolf was as laughable as the idea of Tywin Lannister turning into a lion when the moons were full, it was working in his own favor. Even Legate Rikke looked a bit unsure.

"Out of my sight," Tywin said, his voice dangerously quiet. "All of you."

After exchanging nervous glances, the men around him left the room and Gendry was firmly escorted out the door and back into the training yard of Castle Dour as the door slammed shut behind him.

Frustrated, he turned to leave the grounds but was stopped by a voice from behind him.

"Wait!"

Gendry stopped and turned to see Tyrion Lannister walking briskly toward him, slightly unbalanced on his stunted legs. He raised an eyebrow.

"Why? So you can laugh at me too? I know what I saw, whether you believe me or not."

Tyrion shook his head and looked up when he reached Gendry's side. "I believe you."

Gendry met his gaze distrustfully. "You do? Why?"

The Imp gave him a crooked smile. "Because I've always had a certain fondness for cripples, bastards, and broken things." He jerked his head toward the steps to the castle's battlements. "Walk with me, boy. We need to talk."