Not only do you get chapter twenty but as well as chapters one to four are rewritten into new formats as well. Originally I only wanted chapters one and two to be rewritten, but then realized that the story didn't flow correctly so I also did completely new revisions on the other two. That was the main reason why I took so long since I had trouble envisioning new story beats for the chapters. Nonetheless, I managed to trudge through it and finished all of it, so check those out if you want. I'm also considering doing some slight revisions on other chapters like on chapters thirteen to eighteen but that's another problem to tackle another time. Anyway, onward with this chapter.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of these character names or the story itself. George RR Martin owns all of these characters from his story ASOIAF.
Chapter 20: Conspiracy
298 AC
Jon
Jon was walking down the cold corridor before stopping before the dark iron door. He gave it three knocks, "Maester Aemon, may I enter" "You may". Jon opened the door; he was greeted by a wave of heat from the roaring fire in the pit, a single candle sat on the table that brought light in the dark room. Multiple shelves lined the wall, stacked to the brim with many heavy tomes, with a thick layer of dust covering them. Sat by the table was Maester Aemon, his clouded eyes staring into oblivion. Jon sat in the opposing chair across from him, "Sorry to disturb you maester Aemon, but I wanted to inform you of an important issue" "No need Jon Snow" he whispered gently while waving his hand, "Nothing you have to say has no disturbance on this hundred year old man".
Jon smiled as he leaned in closer, "It's about Sam" Maester Aemon nodded, "Ah the Tarly boy, being worried about your friend is what we all experience. Lord Commander is having thoughts if he should take the vows, especially with him doing so poorly in training" "That's what I wanted to ask you about, I think you should keep Sam". Maester Aemon sighed his thin wrinkly lips smacking in thought, "What need does the Watch need of Sam?" "I think he would be a good steward for you" "Yet, I already have two of them. Why would I need a third?"
"Sam would make a great steward for you; he can write, read, and do math. You mentioned that Chett had a hard time reading some messages and Clydas is getting older as well" Maester Aemon pursed his lips, "No offense to you". A cold silence enters the two of them before, interjected by a low chuckle by the maester. "I see now why Jeor wanted you under his wing. You truly take after your father". Jon nodded, "I will talk to Jeor Mormont about switching Sam to be trained as a steward".
Jon exhaled, "Is there any more you have to say, Jon Snow?" "No, that's all. Thank you for giving me the time maester Aemon" "Please, my boy in private you need not call me maester". Jon nodded, as he awkwardly patted maester Aemon's leg before leaving the man alone in his study. The next day came; Jon and the rest of the recruits stood and listen as Jeor Mormont inducted them into the Night's Watch. "Hey Jon, you hear that I've been placed as a steward for maester Aemon?" "Huh, really?" Jon feigning surprise, "Yeah, Jeor told me I will be helping maester Aemon with his duties. Also, I will be able to take my vows with the rest of you guys".
"Great, now you can tell us the entire story of Robert's Rebellion," Edd said sarcastically, "Funny thing about that; did you know…" "Sam, Edd's being sarcastic," Grenn said, holding up his hand to shut Sam up. Jon smiled as the rest chuckled at Sam's expense; at the same moment, Jeor Mormont called out everyone's new roles in the Watch.
When he came to his name, he would assign Jon as his steward. Shock and anger coursed through his veins, his hands shaking intensely. Out of the corner of his eye, he would see Alliser Thorne smirking, which only added to Jon's anger. After the ceremony was over, Jon angrily stormed off into the barracks, followed by Sam. "Jon, wait! It's not all bad" "Sam, I've always wanted to be a ranger like my uncle Benjen. I'm reduced to a lowly position, serving as a steward". Sam shrugged his shoulder, "It's not that bad, at least you're not shoveling dog poop from the kennels".
Before Jon could reply, Sam continued, "You may be a steward but, you're Jeor Mormont's steward. The Lord Commander chose you; Jon because I think he sees potential within you. You are going to be spending every waking moment with him; you will get to learn how to be like him. I think he wants you to be the one that takes his post when the time comes" Sam said with his childish grin. Jon sighed heavily, rubbing his hair, "Okay Sam, I trust you this".
Jon would then leave as he headed to the Lord Commander's quarters, as he began his duties. Jeor Mormont was more respectful than Jon realized, stating that he chose as he believed to see some potential from him. However, Jeor did say that he wasn't going to be easy on Jon and that he was going to have to train hard if he wanted to be a ranger. Thus, through the week, the Lord Commander had Jon do multiple duties such as feeding the crows, repairing defenses in the castle, and of course training. Jeor even suggested that Jon teach the recruits how to spar, which only did more to piss off Alliser Thorne. Jon didn't care what he thought, he knew that he was doing this for a reason.
Then the day came, Jon and his friends would finally be able to take their vows. The six of them went under guard with Ghost following out. The gate slowly rose, as the cold wind blew in snow into the tunnel. The lads walked out, the wall shadow eclipsing them all, as they looked out to the vast forest that lay before them. Jon knew where they were heading; he spotted the familiar white bark with red leaves. The lads began their trek towards the tree, as Ghost followed quietly behind.
A shiver would pass through his body, as Jon stopped shortly. He felt like someone was watching him, as his eyes scanned the tree line. Far away, there was a white-cloaked figure looking feminine in the figure. Her skin seemed white as snow; her gown was a light blue with a tattered end to it. "Hey Jon, what you looking at?" Pyp said while patting Jon's shoulder, "Did you not see that person?" "What person?" Grenn asked confused.
His friends looked around the forest bewildered, as Jon looked back to see that the person was gone. "Never mind that, let's get you lads sworn in," one of the men said as he guided them towards the heart tree. The six lads knelt before the tree, reciting their vows together:
"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come".
As they said their last words, the wind blew greatly as the leaves rattled and fell to their feet. Jon looked at the tree; the face carved into the bark seemed solemn as bloody tears ran down its face. "Rise, you lot are now brothers of the Night's Watch", as Jon and his friends stood up, his direwolf came running over. "Ghost what are you…" Jon's speech would fall short, as Ghost would drop a severed hand into his lap. Overcome with shock, Jon knocked the hand onto the snow, to which one of the men would walk over to look at it. "Where the hell did you wolf find this?" "Ghost can you show us where you found that?" Ghost obeyed as he stalked away, with the group following him.
They came before a clearing, with a harrowing sight before them. Blood stained the ice, as dismembered body parts of various people lay on the site. In the middle of the site, lay two bodies covered with the black cloaks of the Night's Watch, the men were laying on their backs their eyes lazily staring into the sky. Their skin was pale blue as well as their eyes, "My God, you two go back and get a sled, we are taking these two back to Castle Black", Grenn and Satin nodded as they ran back. They came quickly with a sled in tow, Jon and the others then slowly and carefully lifted the two bodies onto the sled.
They hauled the sled back through the gate and into Castle Black. As soon as they got into the courtyard, a multitude of people had gathered including the Lord Commander. "These are the men Lord Commander, Jon's wolf found them out there" the men called out as the Lord Commander approached the sled. "That's Othor and Jafer Flowers; they are men of Benjen Stark's party. What happened to Jafer's hand?" "My apologies Lord Commander, Ghost tore off the hand and gave it to me which allowed us to track them" Jon replied. The Lord Commander nodded gruffly, "You smell that?" a man named Jaremy Rykker leaned down and took a sniff, "What smell are you going on about Tarly?" "There is none. I mean if these men were killed a while back shouldn't they smell of rot and the bodies still haven't decomposed".
Jeor Mormont stared worryingly at the two bodies, "And might be I'm a fool, but I don't know that Othor never had no blue eyes afore" Dywen added. "Have these men checked out by maester Aemon, thanks for the input Tarly; you may be fat but you're not stupid" Jon saw Sam smiling at himself from the compliment. "You heard him, let's get these men placed in one of the cells" as several of the men dragged the bodies of the men away. Jon couldn't help but stare as the bodies were taken away; those pale blue eyes seem to entrapping yet brought a terrible feeling. "Jon, meet me in my quarters now," Jeor called to him, which Jon followed. They came into his quarters "Corn. Corn. Corn" the crow called out, as it sat on the desk. Jeor sat in his chair motioning Jon to sit, "Is there a problem Lord Commander?" The Old Bear stared at him hard, before handing Jon a small scroll.
Jon took it, as he unraveled it and read its contents. Anger rose in him as he stood up and made his way to the door, "And where do you think you're going? Do you not take your vows already, huh?" Jeor said to him as he stood up as well. "He's my father" "I know but your duty is with the Wall now. I told you this because I hope that you don't go do something stupid," Jeor said roughly. He sighed before sitting down, "I'll let you off for now, no worries about me I'll call you if I need your assistance" as the Lord Commander went back to his work. Jon nodded as he walked out back into the courtyard; his mind racing about his family. Robb, Arya, Bran, Sansa, and Rickon; wondering how they were taking of the news.
Jon stopped shortly, he felt as if he was being watched. He looked around, and the noise seem to silence, as he frantically looked everywhere. A wave of nausea enveloped him; his head was in a blur as he could feel his grasp on himself slipping from his body. Jon felt like he was going to faint, as pale blue eyes flashed in his mind, the sound of crackling ice flooded his ears. The darkness would have consumed him until…
"Jon, Jon!" someone was shaking him, as his vision returned. Jon looked around, his eyes landing on the figure in front of him, "Jon, are you okay? You were mumbling to yourself for a while," Satin said with a look of worry on his face. Jon shook his head, "No, I guess looking at those two dead bodies may have been more than I bargained" "Yeah, that was pretty creepy when your wolf brought back one of their hands" Satin replied chuckling. "Let's go to the common hall, perhaps some food will get your mind off those two dead men" Stain as he guided Jon to the timbered keep, "Yeah, better hurry before Grenn and Pyp eat all the chicken". The two lads walked away laughing; still, there was an ominous presence still felt throughout the castle. There in the ice cell, that laid both Jafer and Othor; their bodies lay still, yet slowly one of the other hand of Jafer twitched, before closing his fist tightly.
Lord of Greywater Watch
"And I believe that is the last matter of today", Lord Reed said as he looked over the sheets he held. Robb sighed as he leaned back in his chair, "How does father do it? I don't know how I will be the future Lord of Winterfell" Lord Reed chuckled, "Trust me Lord Stark was the same as you, but like you, he always had people to help him along". Robb looked over the leading documents, "How many was it; five or six marriage proposals for both Arya and Sansa?" "Definitely five for Sansa while for Arya it was seven".
Robb rubbed his forehead, as he looked worried, "I know that the two of them will never accept them. Arya is too willful; probably stabbing her betrothed on their wedding night and Sansa well…" Lord Reed nodded; "If I may, Lord Stark I can offer a temporary situation for this scenario" Robb waved him to continue. "We could say that Sansa is already betrothed to my son Jojen. Of course, they don't necessarily need to get married but, it should get the other Lords off your back for her case" Robb nodded as he looked out the window, "That's a great idea we should run that by Sansa and Jojen later today". As Robb was setting the paperwork away, Howland smirked at the sight.
'You taught him well Ned' Howland looked out the window; it seemed like the tourney at Harrenhal was yesterday. He went to observe the great tourney and hoped he would meet the Starks there. He was unfortunately attacked by three squires until he was saved by her; Lyanna Stark. He sighed at the memory of brave Lyanna chasing those men off and then introducing her brothers to him. He still remembered how the Starks wished to avenge his honor on the men that had hurt him; Howland refused since he didn't want to take revenge. Yet, there was one Stark whose mind could never be changed.
'Perhaps I should try harder to spurn her actions. Maybe the war could have prevented' He sighed shaking his head, "Something on your mind Lord Reed?" Robb said breaking his thoughts. "Oh just reminiscing on old memories" "Father always talked about, saying how you saved his life". Howland smiled, laughing lightly "Ned was always too modest, I would say it was the other way around; I owed him when we faced off against the Kingsguard" "That was when you and my father faced off against the Sword of the Morning?"
Howland nodded solemnly, "Yes, we were seven against three; I was along with your father, Lord Willam Dustin, Ser Mark Ryswell, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, and Theo Wull. We faced off against the finest men of the Seven Kingdoms at the time; the Lord Commander Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent, and Ser Arthur Dayne" "Did my father go head to head against Ser Arthur Dayne?" Howland exhaled tiredly, "From what I remember before I passed out yes, your father fought with great vigor, trading blows with the Sword of the Morning".
Robb nodded, "Lord Reed if I may ask; you knew my aunt Lyanna, can you tell me what she was like?" Howland paused, seemingly taken back by the question as he inhaled sharply. "Forgive me, Lord Reed, I didn't mean to upset you" "No, no, I was just remembering the good times. I mean where should I start?" he sighed as he tilted his head back, "Your aunt was truly a good friend. Stubborn but extremely loyal to her family, she always wanted to do what was right. Saved me from those squires, it was truly a sight to see" Robb smiled, "Do you know why father never spoke of her? Whenever we asked him he would always avoid the conservation". Howland sighed looking out the window, "Perhaps I should tell you the truth, you see…" he was cut off as the door would open revealing maester Luwin.
"My apologies my Lord, a raven came from King's Landing", handing the message to Lord Stark. Howland watched as Robb took the scroll, unraveling it out, he watched as his expression changed from shock to anger. "Is this some sort of joke?" "I don't believe so my lord" "It says that the king is dead and my father has been imprisoned. Now Joffrey Baratheon wants me to come down to King's Landing to kiss his ass?" Howland watched Robb, seeing what he would decide, "What would you like to reply with Lord Stark," maester Luwin asked. "Tell him I will come to King's Landing but not alone. Call the banners," Robb said as he stood up from his seat, as he crumpled the message in his hand, "All of them my lord?" "They swore that they serve my father, let's see if their stand by their vows". Maester Luwin smiled as he nodded, quickly vacating the room and leaving Howland with Robb.
Howland noticed that Robb's hand was shaking slightly, "You did well, you have the makings of a great Lord" "I do?" "Even the strongest of men can be frail". "See that the preparations be readied for the lord's when they arrived," "As you command Lord Stark" Howland bowed before making his way out of the quarters. Howland had the men prep the Great Hall, knowing that the seats would be filled up he had men prepare extra seating for the other lords. As he went out to the courtyard, he could see all the citizens bustling around with the Greyjoy lad issuing out commands. The fluttering of wings was heard throughout Winterfell; Howland would look up to see the black mass of ravens flying off to each vassal.
"Lord Reed, I don't believe we properly met, Theon Greyjoy" as he stuck out his hand, "Pleased to meet you Theon Greyjoy" Howland replied while shaking his hand. "You know if you ask me I stand behind Robb's decision to call the banners, if you require my services I can offer the Greyjoy fleet from my father" he replied smugly, "Well, it is then great to hear your loyalty to House Stark". "You know, I heard you were excellent with a bow. Perhaps we should do a competition of who is the better archer" Theon boasted with his chest puffed up, "Perhaps another time, if you will excuse me," Howland moved aside Theon as headed back into the castle.
Although it may seem that the Greyjoy lad was loyal to Robb, he believed when the moment would come he would turn his back on them. He walked along whistling a low tune, "Father!" he turned around to see his son running and waving at him. "Jojen, I'm a bit busy, if it's something important…" "Father! It's Bran, he won't wake up". Howland furrowed his brow, "What do you mean?" "I think he is caught in one of his dreams states" Howland gulped, "Lead the way, son". He followed suit, as his son zoomed down the corridor. They came before Bran's room; Jojen tore the door open as Howland saw the sight that lay before him.
Bran was lying on the bed; he was covered in sweat, moaning and groaning, while shaking his head back and forth. Osha was at his bedside trying to cool him down with a wet towel while his direwolf Summer walked in circles, whimpering and occasionally jumping on the bed. "How long has he been like this?" "Since the morning my lord, tried everything but the little lord won't wake. Keeps mumbling something about a werewolf" Osha as she patted Bran's forehead. Howland approached Bran, he twitched spastically as he mumbled under his breath, "Grey banner amongst red" Howland eyes narrowed, "Jojen have you tried reaching out to him?" "I've gotten no response from him" "Do with me; we should be able to reach a connection with him". Jojen nodded as he touched his father's back, while Howland placed his hand on Bran's shoulder, both his and Jojen's eyes turning a pale white.
Howland reawakened in a desolate land; with mist enveloping as the eye can see, an unknown structure taking forming in the distance. "Father" he looked to his left seeing Jojen walking next to him, "Stay close Jojen, the mind is a terrible place even for the best of Greenseers". Howland walked cautiously, as two approached the castle, its shape taking form "Father is that the Dreadfort?" As the mist cleared, the high walls and triangular merlons became discernable, as the massive towers dawned upon them, "I believe it is". The two lads walked forward; Howland looked at the entrance, a large wooden gate laid closed before them. He pressed his hand on the gate; it creaked loudly as it gave way for him and his son. As they entered the castle, it gave a ghastly moan, the wind blowing deathly across their feet as they walked through the empty courtyard.
"Father, does this mean the Boltons are behind what Bran is going through?" Jojen questioned, "No, I doubt Roose Bolton would do something so reckless. This is something else, you feel it don't you?" his son nodded, "There's something sinister at play, and Bran is at the center of it all". They trekked into the desolate castle, causally passing through the empty hall, "Where do you think Bran is father?" "I'm not sure son, stick close to me" Howland walked cautiously, the feeling of nausea start to overcome him as he walked deeper into the castle. As they passed through the various rooms, the torches that lined the walls were disappearing as the darkness closed in on them. "Father, I sense something behind this door" Howland turned his head as he faced the door.
It was blackening, with rust lining the edge as a putrid smell coming from it, "This must be it, Jojen stay here" "But father…" "No buts; this is beyond even by your sense. I want you to promise me something, son". He knelt as he placed his hands on his son's shoulders, "At the first sign of trouble you detach yourself from the mindscape you hear me?" Jojen stared at his father, before nodding as Howland breathed a sigh of relief and standing up.
Howland grabbed one of the nearby torches, as he pressed the door open, creaking with an eerie moan to reveal a descending staircase. Howland went down gradually, as he delved into the deep, stepping precisely on each step. He spent nearly an hour descending; going further into the darkness the air was thick, with a smell of blood as the sounds of gnashing bone sounded. Coming before a thick iron door, it was decorated with the skull of a wolf with banners of a flayed man and a wolf engravings, "Grey banners amongst red" Howland whispered to himself. He pushed the door open with great effort, it heaved with a loud screech it exposed an expansive chamber.
The room was several times larger than the hall within Winterfell; on the walls and the ceiling with several memorabilia of past battles of what looked like Bolton kings against Starks, with several skins of people nailed on the wall. In the center; laid an altar surrounded with small-lit candles illuminating the horror. Howland walked forward, noticing that a person was lying on top of it, the realization dawned on him when he realized it was Bran. Howland ran hurriedly, as he went over to Bran, "Bran! It's me Lord Reed!" as he shook Bran's limp body softly. Several footsteps sounded in the chamber; Howland stopped as he looked around, "Who's there? What have you done with Brandon Stark?"
His voice echoed into the void, as the footsteps came closer and closer. Howland had his back to the altar, not noticing that Bran's body slowly sat up. Howland tried to peer into the darkness to ascertain who was there until said figure stepped out of the shadows. The figure wore red armor, brandishing a bloodied sword, the sigil of the flayed man sported on his chest plate. His face was covered with a shadow, yet his mouth was shown as several sharp teeth stuck out. He held a shield that had several grey wolves running on a frozen lake, "Who are you?" Howland shouted at the mysterious figure. The figure sneered as Bran grabbed Howland from behind preceding to choke him out, Howland quickly recovered and threw Bran to the ground. Fearing the worst, Bran got back up as he charged at Howland, now Brandishing a small rusted knife.
Howland wrestled the knife out of Bran's hand, "Bran wake up! You're being controlled; think about what you're doing!" Bran's eyes stayed lifeless; pale, unblinking like half moons while tried to get the knife back. Howland steeled his resolve as he pressed his hands against Bran's head, chanting words as his eyes glowed a vibrant white. Bran let out a blood-curdling scream; the mysterious figure ran forward poised to kill Howland and Bran. As he brought his sword down on the pair, his hand was stopped as a root came from the ground, entangling his wrist in place. Howland would see as various roots grew out from the stone floor trapping the figure in what looked like a tree; the figure snarled and roared flashing yellow eyes of anger before being completely covered. Bran would then fall silent as his body slumped into Howland's arms.
"Howland Reed, flee before the beast emerges. Be wary the bastard is not to be trusted" a voice called out, as a new door opened revealing a new set of stairs. Howland regaining his bearings hoisted Bran in his arms as he ran towards the stairs. He ascended as fast as he could, hearing a primal howl coming from behind. He cared none for it, tightening his hold on Bran's body as he climbed the stairs. Reaching the top, he would adversely bump into his son, "Oof! Father, is that Bran?" "Jojen! We need to leave now!" His son would lead the way, as the two of them ran for the exit, the snarling and padding feet of the beast gaining of them. As they exited the gate, a low growl emitted as a large creature came strolling out from the castle. The beast was a large grey wolf, with bright orange colors with blue rings around the irises. It roared at the two of them as it raced towards the two of them.
However, before the creature could lunge onto Howland, the cawing of a raven sounded as the scenery melted away. The beast roared in anger as it tried to slash at Howland with no effect, "Remember do not trust the bastard" as the shadow of a raven flew the three of them out of the dreamscape. Howland woke with a gasp as he fell backward onto his back, his son lay beside him panting heavily. On the side, he would hear Bran take a breath, as he opened his eyes, "Bran!" Robb exclaimed as he embraced his brother in his arms. Howland would see as the Stark siblings enveloped the young Stark in his arms. "Father are you alright?" his daughter called to him, "Yes, I am alright". He stood up in tandem with his son, as he and his family left the Starks to their privacy.
Morning came the next day, as he entered Lord Stark's quarters, "Lord Reed, sit, we have much to discuss". He sat down, "How are you and your son?" "We both have recovered well enough, Jojen is still a little shaken by the event but he said he will get by". "Is Bran doing well?" Robb nodded; "He's recovering from the shock of his word being asleep for an entire day. I would like to hear your side of your story of what took place" Howland nodded as he recited from the memory of what had concurred when he entered into Bran's mind. Robb leaned back in his chair, as he digested what he was told by Howland, "What did it mean not to trust the bastard? It can't be possibly about Jon right?" Howland shook his head, "No I think it means someone associated with Lord Bolton. I have heard that he keeps a bastard since his trueborn son died years ago".
Robb sighed, "First the Lannister's now the Boltons, why must they target a child?" "I'm unsure of the answers myself Lord Stark, but let's give Lord Bolton the benefit of the doubt. It could be possible that he had no part in what happened to Bran since he would never try something this daring". Robb nodded, "Perhaps we shall address this personally with Lord Bolton when he arrives. Then we'll get the answers on who's behind this, mark my word" his blue eyes with a deep icy stare to it. Howland nodded, as he excused him from the room to see his family; as he walked down the hall, a servant passed by him with an appalling rotten smell to him.
Sansa
"Do you need anything else Bran?" "I'm fine, if I need anything I'll ask Osha or Hodor" Bran said stubbornly as he lay in his bed. Sansa set the plate down as she adjusted his blanket, "Okay, but remember Robb, Arya, me, and Lord Reed are here for you". She gave a small kiss on his forehead, which garnered a smile from him. She gave a command to his direwolf to watch over Bran, before leaving the room. She walked down the corridor, as her direwolf Lady walked in tow. Sansa sighed to herself; it had been a few days since Lord Reed, his son, and Bran endured that thing. When she was told that Bran had fallen into a deep sleep, Sansa ran over to see if he was all right. She was greeted with the sight of Lord Reed and Jojen, warging from Sansa deduced in reaching out to Bran.
It was like when he fell from the tower; she, Arya, and Robb had stayed by waiting until they came back. After a long twelve hours; Lord Reed and Jojen brought Bran back to the world. The emotion that she felt when she saw Bran woke up was happiness beyond explaining as she and her siblings held her Bran for dear life. She and everyone else have been fussing over his condition, considering when he came to he was quite disturbed by what he was experiencing. Maester Luwin was saying that he was making a good recovery and that constant rest will ease his mind for healing.
Of course, naturally, she and Arya had asked Lord Reed what could have happened that made Bran comatose. Lord Reed disclosed that he saw what he thought were Bolton Banners, saying that Lord Bolton was under suspicion yet was more directed to his bastard. He said that Robb would question Lord Bolton on the matter once he arrived at Winterfell. Sansa was better mannered to the news unlike Arya, who stated that they should go find this bastard and kill him. Sansa explained that they required proof as acting out could make the situation worse, practicing restraint when it came to this. Sansa laughed to herself, never in her life she would imagine her sister listening to her advice.
Sansa came to her room, opening the door she laid back on her bed as Lady came by her head to nuzzle her. She closed her eyes; exhaling breathily, as she rubbed her direwolf's head while Lady licked her lovingly. Thankfully, the full moon was ahead for a while, she savored these times when she wouldn't have to undergo such a painful transformation. A knock came at her door, "Come in" The door opened to reveal Arya and Meera "Hey Sansa". "Hello Arya, Hello Meera, what can I do for you?" "Can't I visit my sister?" Arya chided as her direwolf Nymeria jumped on her bed to greet her, giggles coming from Sansa as she received many licks on her face. "What lady Arya wanted to say was that she wanted your company as her brother has been busy making preparations for the Lord's arrivals" Meera stated, with Arya shooting a glare for her being called a lady, "Oh I don't mind". Sansa climbed off her bed, walked over to the table, and straightened her dress as she sat down.
"So any new happened?" "Some lords arrived; Mormont, Karstark, and Manderly banners arrived. Robb has been talking to them, and said he was going to expect to introduce us to them very soon" Sansa nodded, "Once all the houses arrive we can go down to King's Landing and save father". She reached out grasping Arya's hand, "Hey don't worry, father may be imprisoned but Joffrey would be a fool to have him executed" "Sansa's right, they have no leverage on the North. Father has said that Tywin has sent his warrior Ser Clegane the Mountain to pillage villages across the riverlands". Sansa shook her head in disbelief, "Mother shouldn't have arrested Tyrion unjustly, now we may be on the brink of war" "It's the Lannister's fault, if they didn't try to kill Bran in the beginning then Robb wouldn't be calling the banners," Arya said as she fiddled with her sword.
Sansa sighed, these were dark times; war brewing, father imprisoned at King's Landing and Robb potentially leading an army. She wished when times were simpler when they were young, had fewer worries, and had aspiring dreams. Sansa was anxious; praying that father will be all right and that he would make it out safe. As mused on her thoughts, a pungent smell wafted into her nose, "Oh gosh, do you smell that?" Arya and Meera sniffed the air, "I don't smell anything" "Sansa not everyone has werewolf senses like you" as they said that the smell grew closer to Sansa. She gagged, as a wave of nausea came over her, "By the Old Gods, that is appalling" hearing footsteps approaching her door. Both Lady and Nymeria stood up, and they growled at the door, seeing the direwolves aggressiveness Arya reached for her sword as two knocks were made on the door.
"Who is it?" Sansa asked as she held her nose, "I've come to bring lemon cakes for you", the three girls eyed each other with Arya stepping forward. Arya opened the door slowly, still gripping her sword tightly as it revealed a short man carrying a tray of lemon cakes. As the door was opened, the smell just became ten times worse as Sansa coughed and eyes watered from the revolting scent. She looked at the man; he was short, hunched with small hairs poking from his chin, wearing a fur coat with pants smeared in mud. His eyes had heavy bags underneath as his mouth twitched and spasmed, with an uncharacteristically pointy nose and crusty skin.
Arya and Meera, who now were smelling the obnoxious scent held their noses "Who are you?" Arya questioned the man. "I came with one of the bannermen, as a token of respect from house Manderly" as the short man knelt while bowing his head. The three participants were suspicious of the man; not only did he smelt revolting but the fact that the direwolves were snarling and growling aggressively. Sansa motioned for the two to test the man; as the two large wolves stalked forward and sniffed the man. Although they were hesitant at first, they examined him from head to bottom and the lemon cakes. Adding to their suspicion was that after the direwolves finished, they seemed in becoming more passive and playful.
Sansa narrowed her eyes at the man, who would stand back up as he offered out the tray, "Why did you bring lemon cakes?" "Like I said, house Manderly wanted to offer respect to you my ladies" the man smiled, as his crooked teeth shone through. Sansa, Arya, and Meera grimaced at the sight with Arya snatching the tray away from the man before placing it on the table. "If you're from house Manderly prove it to us," Arya stated, her hand tightening on her sword.
The man pulled out a small clasp, which held the merman sigil of house Manderly "If you must know Lord Manderly is a prodigious eater and had his staff prepared delicate sweets for you lady Sansa". Sansa narrowed her eyes at the man carefully, as she grabbed one of the lemon cakes while taking a sniff of it. It had an exquisite sweet smell, lemony with a slight hint of vanilla. She examined the cake in her hand; it was bright yellow, soft to the touch with a candied lemon slice decorating the top. "So his token of respect was giving me a tray of lemon cakes?" the man nodded dumbly as he began to saunter away. "Hold on a second" Arya said, "Insure that Lord Manderly gets our thanks for the gift, and tell him that we would like to have an audience with him". The man bowed respectfully, as he closed the door behind them his footsteps ran hurriedly away. The stench slowly disappeared as the man's footsteps disappeared in the distance.
Sansa breathed out heavily; finally, the retched smell had dissipated from the area as she breathed a sigh of relief. "Why did that man have such a revolting smell? I doubt that Lord Manderly would even employ such an appalling man" Arya muttered, "I cannot say for certain. I'm more concerned that your direwolves suddenly became docile when showing aggressive signs to the man," noted. Sansa held the cake in her hand, "Don't tell me you are going to eat that?" "I mean Sansa should be able to detect if there's something off with it". Sansa placed the cake in her hand as she picked up another one; taking a sniff, she found this one smelling more delightful as it had a nutty aroma. "I will have these items inspected by my father and ensure that Lord Manderly is made aware of this," Meera declared as she took the tray and exited the room. Arya held her hand out, "Gimmie that one Sansa".
"Surely one couldn't hurt" Sansa pleaded as she held the lemon cake delicately in her hand. "No, we don't need even know if Lord Manderly even made these cakes personally. End of story give it here!" Arya exclaimed as she tried to snatch the cake out of Sansa's hand. "Just one bite" Arya sighed as she rubbed her forehead, "Fine". Sansa smiled as she took the bite; the sour taste of the lemon engulfed her senses, as the sweet moist cake melted in her mouth.
"Alright you had your fill now give me it" Arya snidely said while seizing the cake as she tossed it mildly onto the tray. Meera left the two sisters alone, with Arya pulling a handkerchief to Sansa to wipe the crumbs from the corner of her mouth. "See, no poison in sight," Sansa said while Arya rolled her eyes muttering something under her breath.
After wiping herself Sansa passed the handkerchief back to Arya, when all of a sudden she gasped dropping the handkerchief onto the floor. "Sansa, are you alright?" Arya went over to her as Sansa who was gripping her forehead with her hand. "I'm not sure, there was a spike of pain," Sansa said, as small beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Arya placed her hand on her head, "You're burning up, why would you be…" Arya cut off when her eyes widened. "Those lemon cakes must have had poison," Arya said as Sansa shuddered. Sansa rubbed her sides; she felt her bones itching, as beads of sweat began to form on her head, pooling down her collar into her dress.
Sansa panted heavily as she could feel a fire burning deep within her; she arched her back as she closed her eyes, as her breaths grew deeper and closer together. "Come on Sansa let's get you seen by maester Luwin," Arya said worryingly as she helped Sansa from her seat. "I think I'm dying" Sansa breathlessly said; her dress was starting to get soaked as her body shook violently with loud moans escaping her mouth. Sansa's heart was hammering, as her body was nearly soaked with her dress sticking to her body as it revealed her feminine figure. "Gosh! I'm burning up here," Sansa, panted laboriously, as her body writhe and jerk against her wishes.
Sansa growled in frustration as her green dress clung to her sweat-drenched body. Both Lady and Nymeria were whining and pawing at Sansa as they ran frantically around her, "Come on Sansa, let's get you to the maester quarters, Luwin will know what to do" Arya said as she guided Sansa to the door. Sansa staggered; feeling she had run a mile, her legs quivered, threatening to collapse onto the floor but she managed to soldier through it. As the two sisters came to the door, Arya opened it but before they could walk out, "I… can't…" Sansa pleaded, as her body seemed to act on its accord, her bones tingling as the heat reached its limit.
"What do you mean? You need help!" Arya exclaimed as Sansa stiffened on the spot, doubling over on herself as she had been punched in the gut. "G… Gaah!" Sansa gasped, as her form curled on herself. Her body pitched as she fell onto her knees as she hugged her midsection. She desperately clutched her stomach as Sansa doubled over, piercing pain gnawing viciously through her abdomen as a lingering burning, twisting sensation. Sansa's eyes widened in horror, "Oh no… I can't be…" as the realization dawned on her. Another cramp hit her as she moaned, the ominous noises of the ripping pain in her insides sounded, "Arya, you need to leave now!" "What why?" "I'm transforming!" Arya stood there dumbfounded by the statement, "What do you mean you're transforming?" "It means I am turning into a werewolf! There must have been something in the lemon cake, and… Oh!" Sansa stiffened as she groaned, pain flitting on across her face as the squishing of her organs reverberated through the room.
Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, "Get Robb and Lord Reed, now!" she roared at her sister, her eyes gaining a predatory look to them. "Maybe if we run, we can make it to your shed so you don't tear up the place again. I mean can't you stall your transformation?" Sansa looked at Arya fearfully, "No, I think there was something in the lemon cake and it's…" as her next breath ended in a gasp as the preliminary symptoms clutched her body. A soft feminine 'Ah!' escaped Sansa's lips, as the heat intensified her hands grabbed the wall as she tried to steady herself. "Whatever was in the cake and it must have triggered my transformation! I can't stop it, PLEASE just go before I lose it!" Sansa screeched at Arya, her eyes flashing with a predatory gaze. Thankfully, Arya heeded her call as she took both their direwolves and ran for help, leaving Sansa with her vices.
Sansa closed the door, "I need to barricade the door" her body giving an uncontrollable heave as she fell against the door. "Haah… haah…" She panted and moaned, eyeing her dresser as her only hope. Sadly, moving proved to be quite a challenge as the process overtook her body as she pitched and jerked, the pains growing badly with every step she took. Each episode left her gasping and escalated her symptoms, but she knew couldn't stop. Finally reaching the dresser, Sansa began pushing it across the wooden floor, sparing no expense until she was safely behind closed doors. "Come on Sansa… You can do it…" Sansa said as pushed the dresser ever so slowly, "Ah… Ahh!" Sansa's arms crossed beneath her heaving bosom to her hug her slender stomach, doubling over on herself and mouth falling open for the shocking agony assaulting her insides. "Oh God" Sansa whispered fearfully, the pain spiked again as it came closer in waves.
"Aaaaaahhh!" Sansa moaned, barely avoiding a scream, stray sweat-soaked red hairs stuck to her forehead as her body trembled. Sansa gritted her teeth and; with steely resolve removed her trembling arms from her mid-section as she continued her task of pushing her dresser. With great effort, she managed to have her dresser block her exit to the door, Sansa breathed a sigh of relief for her good work even as her body twitched and shuddered.
Her victory was short-lived; yes, she was alone and her door was blocked, the problem was that she had to undergo such a terrible transformation. Sansa leaned back on the dresser, soft cries escaping her lips as she spasmed and writhed, sweat dripped down her neck and over the swells of her heaving breasts. As she tried to take a step forward the worst pain tore through her stomach. "Uh! Ah… No… Ahh… Ahhhhhh!" Sansa screamed at last, her arm wrapping once more around her bare stomach, her slender body bending over, as shaky legs struggled to bear her weight. There was no turning back now; her scream trailed off into strained silence, punctuated by small gasps that were accompanied by soft muffled pops, as though someone was cracking their knuckles. Sansa moaned painfully; hunching as if she had been punched as she held herself to ease the pain as her organs restructured, more noises that were awful came from within and sounds her body should never make as they came closer and closer together as her innards agonizingly rearranged.
Sansa's legs gave way, and she fell onto the floor unceremoniously curling into a fetal position. Every bone and muscle throughout her body felt sore, twitching as they prepared for what was to come. Sansa groaned and moaned as she writhe on the floor, pain filtered into her and strained, twitching as hands as she brought one of them up. She saw as her nails split and cracked, as long black talons sprouted from her tips. Sansa rolled on her back, "Dammit! Should have taken my dress off!" snarling at her stupidity at ruining another dress as a crack rang out. Her hands stretched as it cracked and popped, her fingers extending as she could feel each bone repositioned. More muffled cracks came from the bottom; Sansa peeked down to see her toenails had all been replaced with black claws, as her foot extended and cracked, ankle repositioning to support the werewolf's running. Sansa grimaced; her feet were cramping, as they lengthened, thickened, and broadened growing inward with minute pops and grinding sounds.
Looking underneath her dress, Sansa could see tiny red hairs sprouting all over her dress "Aaaaaaaaaah!" she yelled as her back arched painfully. CRACK! Her breasts heaved as Sansa's chest strained skyward and her head lolled back as the crunching increased in volume. Tears streamed down her face as she could feel the bumps of her spine press unnaturally against her skin. "Dammit… I hate this part", the arch grew more prominent as each labored breath came with a feminine moan as it finally began to extend. She could feel at the base of her spine; at the end of her butt, the naked tail began to sprout. "Please just get it over with" Sansa whimpered as she rolled onto her hands and knees, more cracks came out as her body twisted and shook. Small rips started to form on her dress, as her muscles expanded from underneath; growling from the discomfort Sansa used both her malformed hands and ripped the front of her dress in half. The remains fell unceremoniously onto the ground, as Sansa gave a soft relieved sob.
That was far from the end as Sansa screamed, her spine writhed beneath her skin then, with a sickening crunch her back convulsed, pushing her back down against the floor, as her shoulders broadened with the musculature of a predator. Sansa felt the pressure ascend to a new high, as the tiny nub of an appendage stretched with horrible noises and horrific pain. Sansa looked back to see that her tail grew inches by inches in length. The naked tail was at least fifteen feet in length, and red hair bloomed on the naked skin. "AHHHH!" Sansa roared out as her waist snapped and popped, her svelte figure becoming more muscular and hairy. The hair was beginning to spread as it quickly sought to cover her lower regions, as her private areas and legs began to be engulfed with red hair. Sansa felt her tail shake, now fully grown in twenty inches it shook with delight, the sign of the werewolf coming forth.
Her long beautiful legs became bent, as they stretched and became muscular. CRUNCH! Sansa screamed as her waist popped out of place, accommodating her new body posture. Her heart was hammering, as it pumped lava through her whole body, which only accelerated her transformation. "AAAAAHHH!" CRACK! Sansa lurched forward as her chest pushed outward, as she felt her ribs cracking and pushing forward, as it barreled into a more muscular chest. More sickening crunches and cracks came as Sansa's chest expanded as fur sprouted in large amounts.
"Please… Just finish" Sansa pleaded, tears streaming down her face as she watched her arms become more muscular and longer. More pops rang out as her shoulders popped out of her sockets, her back expanding and ripping apart the last bits of her dress. The pain was almost a welcoming friend as Sansa moaned with sweat rolling down her face. Her breasts burned; soft squelching noises as she watched them both shrink as fur grew over them. Her feminine beauty was completely gone now; the final changes were taking place.
"Robb… Arya… Bran… Rickon… Forgive me" A girlish moan escaped her lips; she was never ready for this part. Her ears lengthened as her lips peeled back in a grimace of purest agony, sweat pouring down her last feminine features and her glowing blue eyes losing their color. Sansa let a low bloodcurdling scream as the cracks came from her face. The teeth in her mouth morphed into sharp canines, as her skull began its metamorphosis, drool dripped down her chin as her jaw pushed outward. CRUNCH! CRACK! Red fur grew on her neck, then the edges of her face as Sansa's face contorted into a muzzle. Her nose lengthened, turning cold and wet as the last horrific cracks sounded out, her breaths becoming huskier as they ended in hoarse growls.
The tattered remains of Sansa's dress littered the floor, as the wolf whimpered as the last bits of pain ran its course on its body. It shook its head several times before its eyes snapped open; revealing predatory yellow-amber eyes, gone was Sansa Stark. The wolf let a triumphing cry mixed with agony as it shook its newly settled fur. It eyed its surrounding before making a beeline for the dresser, tearing it apart as it bashed through the door. The wolf roared, as it bounded down the corridor.
Notes
In case you forgot how old these characters are;
Jon/Robb - 17
Sansa - 14
Arya - 10
Bran - 6
Rickon - 3
A bit rusty with writing the transformation since I haven't done it in a while. Going to be taking a break from writing since I have pretty much exhausted myself in writing all this. The next chapter won't come till next month unless I don't procrastinate again, want to focus on other stuff in my life.
Hope you enjoyed it, tell me what you think and I will see you all later.
