Chapter 11: Escape

Jon dashed through the wood after his prey, not hindered in the least by the dim light. He had nearly caught the fleeing doe when he recognized a familiar scent being carried by the wind blowing in from the bay.

Pack. Mate.

He rushed toward the sea, arriving just as one of the strange, hollow trees landed on the shore. He slowed to a walk, relieved to see that his pack was safe as they climbed out of the floating tree. His mate was last, but as she hopped onto the ground, he could tell that something was wrong. Unlike the grace that she normally displayed – despite only having two legs – now she swayed as she walked slowly out of the shallow water. He ran to her, but he was too late.

Tenten fell to the ground.

Jon woke with a start. The memories returned to him in a rush, and he felt his blood turn to ice as he recalled the last thing he had seen.

He slept fully dressed just in case of an emergency, something for which he had never been so grateful. He could sense Ghost to the northeast and he raced toward his direwolf, and where his family was waiting.

The pale moonlight was not enough to see the ground clearly, but he didn't care. The possibility of tripping was far outweighed by his need to be sure that Tenten was well.

"What happened?" Jon demanded as he finally burst out of the trees and found his father, Bran, Sansa and Sansa's friend gathered around the fallen form of his lover.

"She was injured while rescuing me," his father said heavily. "She was attacked, and I believe she struck her head somehow. When we arrived onshore, she collapsed." He looked up, and must have seen the stricken look on Jon's face, for he quickly added, "She's still breathing, and I don't see any blood. I expect she will be fine with rest."

Jon fell to his knees next to his friend, taking one of her hands as he studied her carefully, the other hand gently brushing some hair out of her face. It appeared that his father was correct, but he couldn't help the fear still coursing through him. Head wounds were not a minor thing, even without bleeding.

Still, there wasn't much he could do for her now. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. "Come, the camp is this way," he said as he gathered the unconscious kunoichi in his arms, then began to walk back into the forest.

Though the sun had not yet appeared on the horizon, the sky was beginning to grow light when they arrived. Jon was relieved to see that Arya was still sleeping. It was only after he had begun to lead the others back to the wagon that he thought of how his sister might react if she woke to find him gone, but it seemed his fears had been for naught.

"Arya, wake up," he called as they approached.

"Jon?" came the sleepy reply.

"Arya!" His father's voice was hoarse with emotion.

"Father!" His sister threw herself from the wagon and into their father's waiting arms. Sansa and Bran gathered around as well, all of them wrapping their arms around each other.

Ignoring the glad reunion behind him, Jon concentrated on carefully placing Tenten in the wagon, using the bedding that Arya had just vacated to ensure that she was well padded and comfortable. He pulled a blanket over her still form, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. Please be all right. It was difficult to tear his gaze from her, and all he could think was that she looked so small and fragile lying there.

He took a deep breath, then turned to look at the others. "We need to go. They probably already know that you are missing. The farther we can travel today, the safer we will be."

"What about Tenten?" Arya asked.

"She was injured, but she's going to be fine, and she's asleep now. I put her in the wagon," Jon assured his sister. I just wish I could convince myself of that.

Always aware that they might need to leave quickly, Jon had made a habit of keeping the supplies packed in the wagon when they were not in use, so all he had to do was hitch the mules to the wagon, and they were ready to depart. He and his father rode on the bench, while the children piled into the wagon, though he was relieved to see that they took care to give Tenten her space.

He cracked the reins, and the mules jerked forward. He had always imagined that rescuing his family from King's Landing would be the difficult part. But as they made their way over the rough forest ground, he realized that this was just the beginning. The Lannisters would be looking for them, and with Tenten and his father both injured, Jon knew it would be up to him to keep his family safe.

He just prayed that he was up to the task.

The smell of woodsmoke was the first thing Tenten noticed. She could hear people conversing softly somewhere nearby, and as she listened more closely, she recognized Jon's voice, bringing a smile to her face. She tried to sit up, and almost gasped in shock as the pain hit her. Every muscle in her body ached.

What? How? She slumped back into the mattress, groaning internally as she realized what had happened. I was using chakra to enhance my strength, but with my head injury, I couldn't control it properly. She vaguely remembered the teachers at the academy warning the students of the potential dangers of chakra enhancement, one of the many reasons that most ninja didn't learn how to do so until they were genin and had a reasonable ability to regulate their chakra. I probably had, or maybe still have, a concussion. That would likely make it all but impossible to use chakra safely. I probably tore all of my muscles, like what happens when Lee overuses the Eight Gates. Despite herself, Tenten couldn't help but feel her respect for her spandex-clad friend increase at this thought, that he was willing to deliberately inflict this level of suffering on his body to push himself to grow.

That realization also led to a curious conundrum. Cycling chakra through the body was one of the quickest ways to repair damaged muscles, which was the key to the rapid growth ninja could experience while undergoing intense training. But if she were concussed, could she do so safely, or would she still struggle to properly regulate the flow of chakra through her muscles? How could she tell if she was mentally well enough?

Better to play it safe for now, she realized. Unless it was a truly desperate situation, she wouldn't use chakra for the next few days. It would be frustrating to be cut off from the strength-enhancing power she had become so accustomed to, but it would be foolish to risk it without an exceptionally good reason.

That decision made, she turned her mind to the other pressing matter – the disastrous fight in the dungeon. As she thought back, she couldn't help but cringe at how foolish she had been. The man had not been a particularly skilled fighter. He moved a little faster than a normal human, not a surprising thing given that most people who had access to chakra and trained in physical combat learned to subconsciously channel that power to augment their body's natural abilities, but his speed was nowhere near the level of a skilled genin, and his actually fighting prowess was… lacking… by her standards. No, she had been overconfident and was caught off guard.

The man had judged it perfectly. Since he made no move to escape the cell when she first opened the door, she had decided he wasn't a threat. And it was at that precise moment, right after she had dismissed him, that he had attacked. Had he made his move a moment earlier, when she was still on guard, she would have cut him down quickly. And had he waited just a bit longer, she would have been able to shut the door before he reached it.

Tenten sighed, frustrated and disappointed in herself. Rookie mistake. I should know better. Still, there was no way to change the past. Gai-sensei had always said that there was nothing shameful about defeat, so long as you learned from your mistakes (at least, that's how a normal person would phrase the sentiment – Gai's word choice had included a lot more about youth and not allowing your flames to be extinguished). She may not have been defeated, but it was much to close for comfort. She would learn from this mistake. For too long, she had been complacent with where she was at, convinced that she was far more skilled than any opponent she may face in Westeros. But, clearly, that was not the case.

Deep down, the kunoichi knew that she had gotten lucky. This had been a wake-up call. Many ninja did not survive such experiences.

"So, we escaped out of the castle," Jon said, enjoying the look of excitement on the faces of Bran and Arya, and even Sansa and Jeyne, as he relayed the tales of his and Tenten's adventure in the Reach. "I was worried that we didn't have any horses, so we would travel much slower, but Tenten kept telling me that we would find horses. Of course, I didn't know at the time that when she said we would 'find' horses, what she really meant was that Renly would send soldiers after us, and we would knock them senseless and then steal their horses."

The children let out a laugh.

"So, I'm hiding in the bushes, and the soldiers are there yelling at Tenten, demanding to know where I am. 'Where's the boy?', the captain kept saying. And Tenten just pretended that she didn't understand, until finally the man got so frustrated her tried to grab her with the other soldiers. Before you could even blink, Tenten had knocked them all unconscious and grabbed their mounts. Then she looked over at me and just smiled as though everything was perfectly normal and called out 'Jon-kun, found horses!'" Jon finished, doing his best to imitate Tenten's accent at the end.

"That is not what I sound like," a familiar voice said playfully from behind him.

Jon turned in shock and relief, but Arya reacted first. "Tenten!" the girl squealed as she dashed over and hugged her friend.

"Be gentle," the kunoichi grunted as the girl impacted her, her face contorting briefly in pain. "My muscles are very sore. Should not have used chakra with a head injury."

"Will you be okay?" Jon asked, concerned.

Tenten nodded reassuringly. "I will be fine. Just need time to recover. Maybe a few weeks." She looked around at the small campsite, nodding approvingly. "How long was I asleep?"

"All day," Arya replied, her voice somewhat muffled as she continued to hold tightly to the older girl.

Jon couldn't help but smile as Tenten rubbed Arya's back gently. "Well, thank you all for taking care of me." Her face grew serious. "How far from King's Landing are we?"

"We pushed the mules as hard as they could go," his father said. "I would estimate we've come a little over ten leagues, though we'll need to slow the pace over the next few days to let them recover."

Tenten nodded. "Half a day's ride for a man on horseback, but the distance we have traveled greatly increases the area the Lannisters must search," she mused. "So, that reduces the chances of them finding us, especially since it will be difficult to track such a small group."

"We just have to hope that we are fortunate enough to evade the Lannister patrols," Father agreed.

"Ned-sama, we should treat your arm. The wound is infected."

His father sighed. "I think it's too late for that."

"We will do what we can," Tenten insisted. "Do we have water?" Jon nodded, confused. "Start boiling some. We can use boiling water to make everything clean, so the wound will not be infected again. And we have wine. That will help to clean the wound as well."

Jon didn't fully understand why boiling the water was important, but he didn't question it. "Do ninja learn about healing, then?"

"Some do," Tenten said with a shrug as she inspected the wagon, finally pulling out the canvas bag with her clothes in it. "When I was younger, I wanted to be like Tsunade-sama. She is now the hokage, the leader of our village. She is a famous healer, and so I wanted to learn, but I was not good enough at controlling chakra to be a healer." She pulled a small wad of pink cloth out of the bag, and Jon felt his heart beat just a little faster as he realized she was holding the incredibly revealing silk trousers (if they could even be called such) she had worn while pretending to be a performer from Lys. "But, still, I learned about how to treat injuries without using chakra. Should be enough for now."

"What do you need that silk for?" he asked as his friend began to carefully pull the fabric apart.

"We will use it to make thread to sew Ned-sama's wound after we have cleaned it," she replied, still focused on her task.

The water had already reached a rolling boil by the time she had finished, and Jon was surprised when Tenten placed a needle and the recently separated thread into the ladle, then slipped a kunai on as well, threading the handle through the ring at the end of the kunai. She then dipped the whole thing in the water, then added a large swath of silk, and another of linen as well. "There are very small creatures that make people sick and cause infections when they are inside the body. So small they cannot be seen without special tools," she explained. "Putting items in the boiling water kills the creatures, so they are safe to use, and there will be no infection. But first, we must cleanse the wound." She looked over at his father, who nodded understandingly.

"Children, you all go over by the wagon," he instructed as he took a seat near the fire.

Bran wasn't sure what was happening, but it didn't sound pleasant. He wanted to stay, but knew by the tone of his father's voice that now was not the time for argument.

As he left, he could see Tenten wrap some cloth around a stick, which she handed to his father. Bran frowned as he saw his father place the stick in his mouth. What are they doing? He wondered as he stood with the others in the darkness.

A loud grunt sounded from the campfire, and Bran turned to look back where he had come from, just as a muffled scream of pain broke the stillness of the night. He could see Jon holding his father in place, while Tenten seemed to be cutting into his arm with one of her strange knives.

"What are they doing?" Sansa asked, horrified.

Even from a distance and with the dim light from the fire, Bran could see yellow fluid draining out of his father's arm. It looked sickening, and he thought that even from this distance he could smell it, it was so foul.

"They said they have to clean the wound," Arya replied. Bran thought that she was trying to sound braver than she really was. Despite her words, she was staring wide-eyed at the scene by the fire just like the rest of them.

Tenten had put the knife away and had retrieved a piece of cloth from the pot of water. His father let out another scream as she began to rub the arm where the cut was, running the cloth back and forth just like you would in the bath to scrub your skin clean.

Bran felt like he was going to be sick. Scrubbing was bad enough when it was just on your skin. He couldn't imagine how much it would hurt to have someone doing that to a bad cut on your arm. His father let out another muffled cry of pain as Tenten rinsed the cloth out in the pot of water, then returned to scrubbing.

Finally, the cleansing was complete, or so Bran assumed when Tenten put the cloth back in the water. He was surprised when she picked up one of the skins filled with wine, which she poured onto his father's wounded arm, eliciting another grunt of pain.

The foreign woman then picked up the needle and thread, and Bran was horrified to see that she stuck it right into his father's arm. Surprisingly, his father made no sound. The young boy couldn't imagine how this could possibly hurt less than what had happened before, but that was apparently the case.

"Are they sewing his arm shut?" Sansa gasped.

"Maester Luwin had to sew a cut on my forehead shut when I fell out of a tree a few years ago," Arya reminded her.

Bran gulped. He had never heard about that. He'd never imagined what it would be like if he fell while climbing. If that was how painful it could be, maybe he'd have to rethink his desire to climb all the time. He frowned at this thought. No, I'll just make sure I don't ever fall. That seemed like a better idea.

At last, Tenten finished sewing, or at least, that's what it seemed like from what Bran could see. She took a step back, then retrieved another piece of cloth from the pot. Pouring more wine on his father's arm, Tenten carefully wrapped the long piece of linen around like a bandage.

"You can all come back now," she called.

Not surprising, Arya went first. "Is he going to be all right?" Bran was surprised at how soft her voice was. Arya was always the boldest and bravest, never afraid of anything. But now, she sounded… scared.

"The cut was very deep, and it has been infected for several weeks," Tenten warned them, "but I think he will recover. I do not know if he will still be able to use the arm well, but I do not believe that he will get sick any more from it."

The young Stark boy looked down at his father, who was pale and covered with sweat, though he managed to give his children a pained smile. "I'll be fine," he promised.

Bran just wished he could believe it.

Days passed quickly as they traveled west, following the Blackwater upstream. There were many small villages along the banks, but the largely deserted trail they were following was set about a league away from the river, and so, didn't actually pass through any of the little hamlets, enabling them to travel with few people getting close enough to see them. Unfortunately, they did encounter some travelers here and there. Jon couldn't help but eye each person suspiciously as they passed. Doubtless the Lannisters would be looking for them, and all it would take to bring a band of soldiers down on their heads was one person reporting what they had seen in exchange for a purse of gold. Judging by the frowns on the faces of his father and Tenten each time they passed someone traveling in the direction of King's Landing, he wasn't the only one worried about that possibility.

It was shortly after noon on the eighth day that Jon began to feel a growing sense of unease. Frowning, he looked around, but couldn't see anything.

"Jon-kun, what is it?" Tenten asked softly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I just feel like something is wrong."

He could see her frown, but was pleased to note that she seemed to believe him, for she immediately began searching the area around them.

"I feel it, too," Arya added from behind them.

"You can sense the direwolves," Tenten realized. She grabbed a kunai out of her holster. "Perhaps they smell something."

Jon nodded, his hand going to his sword as he concentrated on his bond with Ghost. He had begun experimenting with his link to the direwolf months ago when Marwyn first suggested he might be a warg. It had taken time, but now he could usually tell what direction and how far away his wolf was. "Ghost is about half a league behind us. I think Nymeria is nearby as well." His eyes shot up, and he stared at his kunoichi friend. "I think there's people following us."

This announcement elicited soft cries of panic from the children, though Tenten and his father were silent. Both, however, looked grim.

"They'd be on horse, and there's no way we can outrun them," his father said reluctantly.

"Then we must fight," Tenten replied without fear. Jon just wished he shared her confidence.

There was no benefit to be gained by pushing the mules any farther, so instead, they stopped the wagon, and Jon and Tenten climbed down, walking about a dozen paces back, with a few paces between them. They drew their weapons, then stood patiently, Jon with his sword, and Tenten with a kunai in each hand.

They didn't have long to wait.

Jon felt a thrill run up his spine as a band of riders appeared out of the trees, most wearing the red cloaks marking them as men-at-arms in the service of house Lannister. Their leader, however, was wearing gold armor, which shone brightly in the sun even from a distance.

The Kingslayer, Jon realized, and he glanced over at Tenten nervously.

"We will win," his lover said softly.

The oncoming riders slowed to a walk a stone's throw from the duo. Tenten studied the enemy closely. There were nine of them. Most appeared to be regular soldiers, but two were not. The Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister, she recognized from Winterfell, but she had never seen the other man before. Almost certainly a Lannister, given how closely he resembled the most infamous member of the Kingsguard, despite being several years younger. An arrogant smirk was on the young man's face. Tenten would take great pleasure in removing it. The smirk, and the face.

"Stark, I'm disappointed that you decided to forsake our hospitality," Jaime Lannister called as they drew near.

"Spare me your ill attempts at humor, Kingslayer," Ned-sama replied bitterly. "The time for words is over."

"Surrender now, and your children will live," the golden-haired man stated. "Don't surrender, and there is no such promise."

"Or we could just kill you," Tenten pointed out.

The men, still on horseback, laughed at her words. Jaime raised one hand, and his followers fell silent.

"Last chance," the man said.

Wyl watched as Ser Jaime raised his hand. "That's the signal," he said to his companion, quite unnecessarily, as it turned out, given that Tom was already aiming the crossbow. Wyl followed his example, carefully positioning the heavy weapon so that it would hit the unarmored bastard right in the chest.

He was waiting for his commander to lower his arm, signaling for them to loose, when a soft growl from behind him drew his attention.

Both men looked just as two massive shapes, one grey, the other white, pounced on them.

Screams sounded from a lightly wooded hill about a hundred paces away, and most of the Lannister soldiers turned to stare in shock.

Tenten and Jon wasted no time.

When the Kingslayer is dead, the others will run, Tenten realized. That wasn't good. If any of the men escaped, they could lead more Lannister forces to the much slower Stark party. We have to kill them all, which means saving Jaime Lannister for last. Unfortunately, there was no time to discuss this with Jon. She would just have to hope that his thoughts matched hers.

Tenten rushed forward, covering the distance quickly, ignoring the pained protests of her body as she leaped up and grabbed the first man, dragging him out of the saddle and slitting his throat.

There was a moment of panic from the other men, as they tried to draw their swords and rush at her, but with so many horses in such a small area, none of the riders could control their mounts well enough to maneuver close to attack her without running into their fellows. As they tried to organize themselves, she pounced on another man, ending his life just as quickly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Jon had rushed toward the Kingslayer, a swift slash of his blade, which he kept honed to a razor edge, slicing deep into the neck of the horse the gold armored man was riding. The horse reared back, whinnying pitifully as it fell to the ground, though the knight was quick to jump off and regain his footing.

Fear filled her as Tenten realized that her lover was now fighting the man many considered to be the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. Unfortunately, she had her own enemies to eliminate before she could help him.

Redoubling her efforts, Tenten killed another man, then had to dodge to one side as the other Lannister charged at her. Unfortunately for him, once he had passed, he stopped his horse to turn around, giving Tenten the opening to slash at its flank. The horse reared back, throwing the younger Lannister to the ground, and Tenten kicked him in the face.

Though the blow wasn't enough to kill him, it did stun her enemy. To her surprise, two of the remaining armsmen turned their horses and began to flee, though they didn't get far before being beset by the angry direwolves.

There were only two more enemies still in the fight, though it was clear from the horrified expressions on the men's faces that they wanted nothing more than to run. Unfortunately for them, that wasn't an option.

None of the Lannister men-at-arms had bothered with their full armor, likely for comfort while riding, and Tenten made full use of that oversight. She lashed out with a kunai, the sharp blade cutting right through the first man's hand as he gripped the reins. He screamed in pain and tried to swing his sword at her head, but his angle was wrong, the arm trying to twist awkwardly over his body. Grabbing his wrist, the kunoichi pulled the man out of the saddle. This soldier had a chainmail coif that protected his throat, but his face was still vulnerable. One stab of Tenten's kunai ended his life.

The last soldier had tried to attack the kunoichi while her back was turned, but he wasn't fast enough. Tenten spun and threw one of her kunai, her hard-earned skills ensuring that the heavy blade hit the man squarely in the face.

The younger Lannister was trying to climb to his feet, still clearly disoriented from Tenten's attack. The displaced leaf-nin kicked at his leg, hitting the man in the side of the knee, and he fell to the ground with a scream, one hand reaching down to grab at the ruined joint. He stilled as Tenten seized his long, luxurious hair, pulling his head back and holding a kunai to the exposed underside of his jaw. Though he didn't make any movement, Tenten could hear the lad whimpering softly.

Tenten was relieved to see that Jon was still alive, matching Jaime Lannister blow for blow. I don't want to interfere with Jon's fight, but maybe threatening his relative will distract the Kingslayer.

Jaime Lannister bit down on the urge to curse again. How did the bastard get so good? Though the boy's technical skills still needed some work, Jaime was startled to realize that his opponent was, as difficult as it was to believe, actually faster than he was. Has it really been that long since I had a real fight? Guarding the royal tub of lard that his 'goodbrother' had turned into didn't afford many opportunities to develop his skills. When he had the time, Jaime normally trained by fighting four or five of the Lannister guards at the same time, but that was quite different from going up against a solitary opponent of great skill. The only time he had been pushed this hard was in the infrequent spars with Barristan, but the old Kingsguard had never been trying to kill him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaime could see his men getting cut down one by one by that surprisingly skilled woman. Still, he didn't think that she would be able to match him, if he could just kill Snow.

His opening finally came, and his blade flashed out, catching the bastard in the left arm, though Jaime snarled when he realized that the wound was not as severe as he would have liked, as his opponent had once again managed to dodge more swiftly than expected, turning what should have been a deep gash that could leave a man weak from blood loss within a minute into little more than a scratch.

It would scare the boy, though. He'd likely not had any real combat experience before, and if Jaime had to kill him one small cut at a time, he'd do it.

The Lannister knight pressed forward quickly, hoping to take his enemy unawares with a sudden charge. A swell of triumphant glee filled him as the boy stumbled, his weapon falling to the ground as he used his hands to regain his balance.

Jaime drew his sword up for a powerful overhand cut that would end the Stark bastard's life when the boy suddenly spun, still on the ground, and lashed a foot out with surprising speed. He managed to jump back in time to avoid being tripped, but Snow used the momentum from his spin to stand once more and leapt toward him.

Caught off balance, the Kingslayer tried to slash at the boy, but his opponent was now too close for such an attack to be effective. The bastard used his left arm to stop Jaime's attack, grappling Jaime's arm while his right came up to punch Jaime in the face.

Jaime had just enough time to realize that Stark's bastard was holding his sword again, in a reverse grip now. Time seemed to slow as the fist drew nearer. He tried to move, but his body just wasn't responding quickly enough. Just before the blow landed, Jaime could see that one of the quillons of the cross-guard was coming directly at his left eye, though whether that was due to the boy's skill or his luck, the Lannister knight didn't know.

He just wished he could have seen Cersei once more.

As he pulled the sword back, Jon cringed as he caught sight of the ruined hole in the handsome face where a green eye had once been. Still, men had lost eyes before and lived to tell the tale. The fight wasn't over. Shifting to a traditional grip, he swung the sword once more with all his might.

Lannister had been arrogant, not bothering to wear the gorget that normally protected a knight's throat. That proved to be a fatal mistake.

Sansa stared, horrified, as the head rolled across the long grass. She remembered when she and Jeyne had gossiped about how handsome Ser Jaime was. And now, he was dead.

"Jon killed the Kingslayer," her brother whispered, his voice full of awe.

"Jon, that was incredible!" her sister shouted.

Jon fell to his knees, panting. The heavy breaths gradually turned to chuckles, then to full blown laughter, bordering on hysteria.

"Jon-kun," Tenten cried, pulling him into her blood-stained arms and pressing her forehead against his. "You did it." Her words were so soft that Sansa could barely hear.

"I got lucky," Jon said, shaking his head slowly.

"You won. That is all that matters," the foreign woman replied as she helped him to his feet. They slowly made their way back to the wagon, where Jon collapsed. Sansa could see his hands trembling.

"Jon, are you alright?" Arya's voice was full of worry, bordering on horror.

"I'm fine, my arm was cut, but it's not bad," her half-brother replied, still breathing heavily. "I don't know why my hands won't stop shaking."

"When you push your body to the limit, it takes time to calm down," Tenten said. "You will be fine, you just need time."

Suddenly, Bran laughed. Sansa turned to stare at him, wondering what her brother found so funny. "Found horses," he said, mimicking Tenten's accent while pointing across the field to where two of the horses had run off. A third could be seen a little farther away.

Tenten turned to look at Arya. "Arya-chan, want to help me?" she asked with a smile.

Sansa could only sigh at the broad grin on her sister's face.

The horses were plain, but well-trained, and were likely accustomed to having many different riders. As such, Tenten and Arya were able to retrieve them one at a time, approaching slowly until they were close enough to grab the reins, then lead them back to the wagon, which Ned-sama had moved a little way off from where the bodies lay to prevent the animals from panicking at the heavy smell of blood.

Eventually, all three mounts were tied to the end of the wagon.

"We should move the bodies. Try to hide them in the trees," Tenten remarked as she glanced down at the fallen soldiers.

"Aye, the longer we can keep the Lannisters from learning what happened to them, the better," Ned-sama agreed.

"Father, why don't you take the wagon and keep moving. Tenten and I can keep two of the horses here, and catch up when we're done," Jon advised as he climbed out of the wagon.

Soon, the two of them were the only ones remaining in the meadow. Or, at least, the only two still alive.

"If we strip the bodies and take the clothes, it will make it more difficult for people to identify them," Jon suggested.

"Good idea," Tenten said with a smile. "We should take all the valuables anyway. No reason to leave them behind."

They caught up with the others an hour later. After tying their horses' reins to the wagon, Jon climbed up on the bench beside his father, while Tenten chose to walk, grateful for a chance to gently exercise her muscles so she could recover faster.

There was little talking. Everyone knew that their situation had become much more dire. Within a few days, when Jaime Lannister and his men failed to return, the other Lannisters would have a general idea of where to search. It was just a matter of time before they were found again. And this time, it would not be just a handful of men chasing them. Their enemies would come in force, both to recapture the Starks, and to avenge the fallen Lannister knight.

They stopped for the night in a small copse of trees. As usual, Ned-sama took first watch. The children piled onto the mattress in the wagon, while Tenten snuggled up next to Jon under a wool blanket. She was vaguely aware when her lover rose to take over for his father, though she quickly fell asleep once again.

The sky was still dark, though the stars were shining brightly overhead when Tenten felt Jon gently shaking her awake. She sat up, yawning as she stretched. The moon was barely visible, a slim crescent hanging above the dark horizon.

Finally, she stood. To her surprise, however, rather than climbing into the bedroll she had just vacated, Jon took a deep breath.

"I have an idea, but I'm not sure if it's possible. We know that the Lannisters will be looking for us on the south side of the Blackwater." He paused for a moment. "Do you think that we would be able to build a raft and float to the north bank? They would keep searching for us down here, but we would be across the river. I doubt they would ever consider that we could have crossed, which means we would be safe."

Tenten considered this. It was a clever idea, provided they could make a sturdy raft. The Blackwater Rush was not a small river, with a swift current that could easily spell doom for anyone unlucky enough to fall in part way through the crossing.

"I think we could," she replied slowly. "We have an ax, and rope. We would need to find a grove of trees closer to the river, and still far away from a village so nobody could see us. But I think we can find a place like that."

"We can speak with Father about it tomorrow. He's more familiar with this part of Westeros than we are," Jon said.

"I think it is a smart idea," Tenten replied, then pressed her body up against Jon's. "I was very afraid when I saw you fighting the Kingslayer. But you won. You have become an amazing swordsman." She kissed him passionately, smiling a little to herself as she felt Jon begin to react. So close to his family, they hadn't felt comfortable engaging in any nighttime activities. Perhaps if we can cross the river, Jon and I can slip away for some time alone together, Tenten thought.

Finally, she pulled away, though it was with no small amount of reluctance. "Sleep well, my Jon-kun."

Not surprisingly, Jon's father agreed with his idea the next morning when they spoke of it.

"Beside the bridge at King's Landing, there is only one real crossing over the Blackwater Rush," Ned-sama said thoughtfully, using a stick to sketch a rough map in the dirt. "A few days' ride from the capital, a large tributary that drains from the God's Eye, sometimes called the Godswater, joins the Blackwater. The bridge is perhaps forty leagues upstream of that, where the Gold Road crosses the river then leads into the Westerlands."

"And where are we?" Tenten inquired.

"I believe that we are a short distance upstream of the confluence," Ned replied, though with some hesitation. "We would need to make certain of that, for it is likely that the Lannisters will have guards watching the bridge where the Gold Road crosses the Godswater. Similarly, it is likely that they also have men stationed at the bridge over the Blackwater. If we can cross somewhere between the two, while they still believe us to be south of the river, we could, in all probability, travel the rest of the way to Riverrun unmolested."

"Slynt said that a Lannister army was being raised to attack the Riverlands, but I do not know any more about that," Tenten stated.

The Stark lord shook his head disbelievingly. "How they think they can get away with this, I do not know. Surely people will not stand for what they have done. They can't possibly justify it."

Tenten shared a look with Jon, both hesitant to reveal what they had learned. "According to Slynt," Tenten began, "The Lannisters claim that you began the war by trying to oppose Joffrey."

"Of course I opposed Joffrey, he's not Robert's son," Ned snapped.

"They say that it was for a different reason," Jon replied softly, glancing over at the wagon where the children were breaking their fast.

"What other reason could there be? My daughter was to wed the crown prince. She would one day be queen. Why would anyone believe that I would start a war with the Iron Throne in such a situation?"

"Ned-sama," Tenten said, sighing. "They claim that Sansa was found being intimate with a knight, so Joffrey decided to end the betrothal. But you wanted your daughter to be queen, so you then ordered your men to take the royal family captive to force Joffrey to marry Sansa."

"I would never!" Tenten looked over to see Sansa staring at them, horrified. "I would never be unfaithful to my husband, even before we were wed."

"We know," Jon assured her. "But the problem is, that is what the Lannisters have told everyone."

To say that Sansa was distraught was an understatement. Though she had never had any sort of experience even close to that, Tenten could imagine how the girl felt, being falsely accused of such things before the entire realm. Still, there was no comfort she could offer.

"When we get to Riverrun, we will send out ravens to proclaim the truth," Ned-sama vowed, his voice as cold as ice. "All of Westeros will know of the Lannisters' perfidy." His face may have been carved from stone, though his eyes blazed with fury. "Jon, ride out and scout the river. Find a place we can build a raft to cross. We will travel to Riverrun, and I shall call the banners of the North to put an end to the Lannisters' treachery."

"Yes, father," Jon replied, nodding in acknowledgement as he began to gather some provisions to take with him.

"The Lannisters speak often of paying their debts," the dark-haired man said darkly. "They owe us a great deal. And Tywin will find that this is one debt even he cannot pay easily."

They continued their travel that day, following the rough trail west away from King's Landing. Jon finally returned shortly before nightfall, reporting a large grove of trees on the bank of the river several leagues upstream. If they pushed the mules, they should arrive the next night.

Fortunately for them, they made the journey without any sign of the Lannisters.

"I've never actually made a raft before," Jon admitted as he looked at the thicket of tall trees.

"Neither have I," Tenten replied. "But, I think we can figure it out. First, we must cut trees. I will start," she said, hefting the heavy wood axe.

It took all night, a feat greatly hampered by the almost non-existent moon, but by morning, they had two dozen logs prepared, the branches cut off near the trunk so they could be tied together with only small gaps in between.

By then, Jon was exhausted, and even Tenten was looking tired, but they managed to push the logs into position. Arya and Bran helped feed the ropes through the gaps between the trees, allowing them to lash the heavy logs together, with two smaller logs used as crosspieces. They finished shortly before noon.

"Do you really think this will work?" Arya asked as she looked at the crude raft they would use to cross the mighty river.

"Of course it will work," Tenten replied immediately. Jon wished he could be so sure.

It took all of the horses and mules working together to drag the raft over the ground toward the river, and even more work to get the wagon securely onboard. Lord Stark had come up with the idea of wrapping cloth around some of the larger branches at the fork, to form makeshift paddles.

They carefully led the mules aboard, tying them securely to the wagon, which was, itself, tied to the raft. There wasn't room for the horses, so they would have to swim. Long ropes were tied to their leads, and Jon just hoped that they would stay close enough to the raft to allow plenty of slack. If they ever got far enough away that the ropes were pulling on the animals, it could impede their ability to swim, and they might drown.

There wasn't any other choice, though, so they would have to risk it.

As they pushed off from the bank, Ned offered a silent prayer to the gods that they would reach the other shore safely. If the raft were to capsize, it could very well mean the death of his children. He doubted that any of them, perhaps not even Jon, were strong enough swimmers to make it back to land.

Everyone paddled with all their might, even Ned himself, though he was under no delusions that he added much, given that his right arm was still almost completely devoid of strength. At times, it seemed that they were not making any progress, but they toiled on, nevertheless. And finally, to his great relief, they reached the steep, muddy bank on the north side of the river.

Getting the wagon up onto dry ground was more difficult than he had imagined. The wheels stuck in the thick mud, and even with all the animals straining their hardest, they were unable to pull it up the slope. In the end, they were forced to unload their supplies, then, with the animals pulling and Jon and Tenten pushing from below, they slowly managed to force the cumbersome wain out of the riverbed and onto the grassy plain.

Ned watched as Tenten, not wanting to leave the rope behind, or leave clues for any pursuers, untied the knots holding the logs together and pushed them out into the river, coiling the rope around her arm as she returned to where the others were waiting.

"We should be safe from the Lannisters now," she remarked with a smile. "It was a good idea, Jon-kun."

"I'm just glad it worked," Jon said, voice filled with obvious relief.

"Tenten is right, it was a clever idea," Ned responded, taking a moment to observe his adopted son. Jon had truly become a man. And not just in the sense of having laid with a woman, though he was sure that was also the case. Thankfully, Jon and Tenten were not acting on their love for each other with the children so near, but it was clear to anyone who paid attention to them. "You should be proud, just as I am proud of you."

Ned almost felt guilty at the surprised look on Jon's face at these words. Have I never told him that before? He hoped that he had, though he couldn't deny that in the interest of keeping the peace with his wife, he had not been as demonstrative of his approval for Jon as he perhaps should have been. That firmed his resolve even more. It is past time that Jon knew the truth.

He just had to figure out how to broach the subject.