Bran had awoken to the sensation of someone climbing into his bed. The feeling of a small, warm body curling carefully into the heat of the furs that covered the bed. Summer had not stirred, and so he knew whomever it was posed no danger, and the presence of another Direwolf told him it was one of his siblings – which was more than just a little annoying. He liked his sleep.

"Go to your own bed." He mumbled, annoyed.

"But I can't sleep." Rickons voice hit his ears, and he internally groaned.

Rolling over, he turned to face his younger brother. "Sansa said if you are scared, just pull the furs up over your head – it keeps the monsters away."

Rickon seemed to scoff. "I'm not scared." He wrinkled his nose. "I'm worried."

Of course he was. Bran was certainly not happy about being woken up, far less over a, no doubt, petty reason. Rickon really did need to start growing up; even if their lady mother did not want him to.

"Rickon, go back to your bed."

The younger whined, as did Shaggydog. "But I'm wor-ried."

"About what?" Bran all but yelled.

A satisfied smile settled on his younger brothers face, as he snuggled himself deeper into the bed, clutching at the furs in his hands. "Lady is restless." He stated. "She refuses to come back in and sleep with Shaggydog and me. She keeps whining and looking south. She even barked at Shaggy for no reason." Rickon took in a deep breath. "It's as if she thinks Sansa is coming home."

'Sansa is coming home.'

"What?" Bran moved closer to his brother, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Sansa is not coming home; she's in Kings Landing for the kings name day festivities."

"But Lady is unhappy. More than normal."

The earnest look in Rickons blue eyes made Bran sigh. "We'll deal with Lady in the morning, okay. Just get to sleep, Rickon. Mother certainly will not be happy if you are grumpy when we break our fast."

"Mother has more to worry about than me." Rickon mumbled as Shaggydog leapt up onto the bed to curl next to Summer.

Bran eyed his brother sceptically before closing his own eyes. He did not need to worry about his younger brothers odd musings. Surely a young child could no nothing about the world. Bran knew very little about what the real world was like, or at least that was what he had been told by Arya and Theon. Not that he had a habit of taking what Arya and Theon had to say to heart. But even father said Bran did not know much about the real world, so it had to be true.

And if he knew little about the real world. Then Rickon knew even less. And that was how it worked. Arya would know than he, Sansa more than her and Robb more than all of them.

But as he pressed further into the bed, he began to wonder just how safe they were. Winterfell was safe, surely. And what could his mother have to worry about that was even more important than raising her children. He opened his eyes and frowned at the sleeping form of his brother. Silently cursing the younger for bringing back the blossoming fears and suspicions he had worked hard to repress, he shifted closer, reaching out to hug his brother.

Even brave knights need comfort.

He sat at the table with his head lowered, trying not to draw any attention to himself as he listened. Having only just, successfully, gotten so far away from Kings Landing, he could not bring himself to return over such a matter – surely there was someone else he could inform; if he was hearing everything accurately.

Of course, the look on his younger companions face told him that yes, he was hearing everything accurately.

The inn was not exactly dingy, but it was hardly the most amazing inn in Westeros. The wooden tables seemed to be rotting slightly. And he truly hoped it was not mould he had seen in the bottom of one of the tankards. But it was warm, and he would relish in the warmth while he could. After all, everyone knew that taking the Black meant sacrificing heat as well as everything else.

Not that he had much else to sacrifice.

Neither did Hot Pie.

And the two had decided they would travel north together and take the Black. It was not like either of them had anywhere else to go. Although, Gendry could hardly say that Hot Pie looked the time to man the Wall. But he supposed a few of the people on the Wall would not look the part.

"Lannisters are payin' a lotta gold for support." One man slurred, his arm slung over his...friends shoulder as he nearly toppled off the bar stool. "Says th' King is a' mad as goo' ol' Aerys."

Which Gendry knew to be a lie. He had not met the king himself, but he had witnessed the good Rhaegar had done for his people. From what he had heard, and even seen, there was nothing remotely mad about the man. And he had also had the pleasure of meeting the crowned prince Aegon and his brother Jon, when they had come personally to the blacksmiths. When he was still working there, that was. And neither of the two princes seemed remotely mad.

"Ah think, Ty'in wants ta put Joffee on th' throne... Ta control 'im from th' pos't'on of th' 'and."

"They won't be able to start a revolt without a good reason." The slightly more sober friend responded. "And Tywin will not have as many supporters as Rhaegar."

"Won' stop 'im, if he fin's a goo' reason."

Gendry frowned as he stared down at his drink. There was never a good reason to start a war. But he knew the threat of a revolt when he heard one, even if it was from a drunken mans lips. Gulping down the rest of his drink, he decided it would be best to let the Lords deal with the threat themselves when the time came. It was hardly his place to turn up at one of the keeps and demand an audience simply to tell them of a rumour.

"Should we do anything?" Hot Pie asked nervously.

Gendry shook his head. "What could we do?"

The sensation of something wet on her face was what awoke her from her sleep. Groaning she turned her head slightly to realise that it was Ghost licking her cheek. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she pushed his snout away from her as she pulled herself up into a semi-sitting position.

It was still dark in the room, which led to her feeling slightly confused. Ghost had never woken her up before. And she had not awoken so early since being at Casterly Rock. Shifting, she turned her gaze on Ghost, who seemed to meet her gaze before leaping off the bed and padding towards the wardrobe. She watched, curiously, as the Direwolf nudged at the door before turning to look at her and then nudging the wardrobe door once again.

She waited a moment, before shaking her head. "No, Ghost. It's too early." She settled back onto the bed, shutting her eyes.

She heard Ghost whine and she sighed before burying her face into the pillow. Usually she would not ignore such behaviour from a Direwolf, but it was far too early and she was tired, sore and embarrassed.

She had known she would not be able to avoid Joffrey forever, but she had hoped that if she was to cross paths with him someone would be with her. She did not expect him to catch her by herself. Nor did she expect Jon to appear just after he had hit her.
What if Jon had seen him hit her? She could feel her face flush in both embarrassment and horror. For someone to have witnessed her being damaged... She shuddered. But he had defended her, that had to account for something, surely. He would not have defended her if he shared any sort of opinion on her with the Lannisters of Baratheons. Or perhaps he felt it was his duty to defend his family.

He threatened to kill him. She thought to herself. A smile almost appeared on her lips, but she repressed it, wanting to rid herself of the memory of that part of the evening.

A soft hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts. Nearly jumping out of her skin, as she turned her head to meet a pair of dark grey eyes.

"Jon?"

There was something almost nervous in his gaze as he looked down at her. His teeth lightly biting his bottom lip. He nodded in response, before briefly looking behind him. When his gaze met hers again, he looked slightly more confident.

"Get dressed."

She sat up, feeling as confused as she had when Ghost had been nudging at her wardrobe.

"Jon, what is going-"

"Rhaenys is going to tell my father that we are ill."

He almost seemed to think that would ease her confusion. Instead it only fuelled it. Why would Rhaenys be telling the king that she and his son were ill?

He looked almost sheepish as he spoke again. "I am stealing you."

Oh.

She tried not to smile as she slipped out of the bed. "Okay." But she was unsuccessful.

"Okay?"

She nodded as she made her way towards the wardrobe. She felt something blossom within her as she opened the door. Happiness, she realised. Excitement, perhaps. She was going to be leaving Kings Landing. She was going to be leaving the Baratheons, the Lannisters. A hansom prince had slipped into her room, and was going to be stealing her.

Maybe dreams did come true.

They had successfully slipped out of the castle, Ghost padding just in front of them, his head held high as he sniffed the air – keeping an eye out for anyone that might notice the two slipping out of the Red Keep. They stopped by the stables, where Jon's stallion was already tacked and ready to ride. A sheet of parchment slipped under the saddle. It would not surprise Sansa if it had been written by Rhaenys.

As Jon turned to help her up onto the horse, she met his gaze. "Are you sure about this?"

Because what if he did not want to steal her? What if he realised he was making a mistake? She could not live with herself if it went wrong. She could end up hating herself if they landed in a situation they did not want. She did not want to force him into anything.

"Yes."

"And if they start a war?"

"It's what Targaryen princes do, Sansa. Start wars over Stark girls."

He did not mean it. She was sure of that, Jon was not the type to start a war. But he sounded sure enough of his words that she could not help but believe him, if only for that moment. So she let him help her onto the horse, and she smiled slightly as he climbed up behind her.

"I am slightly surprised you allowed me to do this."

She chuckled and closed her eyes as they began riding off.

"It is what Stark girls do, Jon."