Chapter 1: Wolves, Lions and a Bull-Headed Stag

Arya

"I'm going to kill the queen"

Once these words escaped her mouth, clear and serious, the reaction she received didn't surprise her, for who was so careless, so stupid as to think that a girl her size would ever be able to murder the blonde demon who had taken possession of the Iron Throne?

She laughed along with the kind lads who had shared their food and wine with her and allowed herself to speak no more. Much as they smiled, Arya had learnt not to trust people easily long ago, and she had learnt it the hard way. That's why she let them believe she was joking. She was just another weak orphan girl, traveling in hopes of getting herself a better life. Nothing more and nothing less than that. And they believed her.

In the night she decided it was time to go. She took another look at the stone where the soldiers' swords were placed but took her eyes away right after. Not today. She wouldn't betray these people today. She wouldn't steal them or kill them. "Be kind to strangers and they will be kind to you" that guy had said and she decided not to disappoint him.

By the time she started riding her horse again she could already see the sun making its appearance. Kings Landing was presumably five days away. She had a plan, but in order to complete it she would need to take yet another life away. One that wasn't included in her list, but she had convinced herself it was necessary. She wouldn't feel guilty afterwards. After all, Jaime Lannister was a spitting image of his beloved sister. Surely his heart was equally cold, and therefore no harm would be done while taking it.

Jon

He heard the knock on his door as soon as he was done reading Jaime Lannister's note. It was short but perfectly clear, though it rose millions of questions he was unable to answer. How had the male Lannister managed to send such note without the queen taking notice? How was it possible to trust what the note read, especially given the fact that it was written by the one person known as "the man without honor"? What kind of trick was he playing at him?

"Come in" he said and his voice sounded tired between his thoughts.

"Am I disturbing you, milord?" Davos asked as he entered the room.

"No, I do need a break. Is it something specific you want, sir Davos?"

"It is, actually. See, for a while now I've been in touch with a boy I've been helping. He's a smith, and a good one from what I can tell. Until recently he worked at a forge in Flee Bottom, I myself sent him there. But I received a letter from him, telling me the situation in King's Landing keeps getting worse. The queen knows no mercy. The crowds are disappointed and they fear for their lives. I took the initiative to invite him here, in Winterfell. We need good smiths and the kid is honorable. I hope there is no problem in allowing him entrance here."

Jon listened to the man's words carefully and it ocurred to him that something about this story wasn't quite right.

"I would gladly accept a smith, but, sir Davos, why is this lad so important to you? In what way did you help him?"

It took several moments before he answered, which betrayed that he was indeed hiding something.

"The boy needed my help, and so I handed it. He was in great danger."

"You couldn't be more specific, sir Davos" Jon said with the hint of a smile and that was when Davos decided it was worthless trying to hide.

"The smith was to be executed on command of lord Stannis Baratheon. Due to the Red Woman's influence, Stannis was convinced the boy needed to be sacrificed."

"I don't understand. What good would the sacrifice of a simple smith do?" he asked though in reality, he didn't understand what good any sacrifice would ever bring. He would always refuse to believe in the Red Woman's logic and this was no exception.

"Aye, Gendry is no simple smith. He is the bastard son of Robert Baratheon."

Arya

Her stomach had already started to ache but she refused to stop her horse for so long as to chase something to kill and it. She wanted her arrival to be as quick as possible, her mission even quicker.

There had been many times during these days when she was tempted, just for a second, to head far north and follow the rout to her home. Would she find anyone there, she knew not. Rumors of the Starks' sigil hanging on the walls of Winterfell had reached her ears but she knew better than to believe them. They talked of Jon and Sansa as if they were living, breathing creatures, as if they were ruling their small kingdom, as if they were heroes. But all that could simply be a bunch of lies, the remnants of a fairytale some nanny had come up with at a place way far from where she was. They could be nothing, or they could be everything. She chose the first option, for the second brought hope with it and she couldn't allow herself that.

Though there were these little moments when she allowed herself to escape reality and clinge to that little breath of life called hope. At these moments she pictured Jon ruling Winterfell, Sansa by his side, alive and well, her red hair dancing like flames because of the cold wind of the North.

But she mostly thought of them at the simplest and most unlikely occasions; Jon's face clouded her vision sometimes when she touched the handle of her Needle. Her sister's beauty invaded her mind everytime she tried to pull her annoying hair back and out of her face. She thought of Hot Pie sometimes when she chewed on her food and instantly the wolf shaped bread he had made her reminded her of Nymeria. One time she even caught herself thinking of a certain smith with a bull head helmet while taking a piss.

"Pull your cock out and take a piss then" once his words returned to her memory she found herself laughing hysterically until she couldn't even breathe anymore. And then her laugh turned into sobs without even realising it.

Arya would remember that day clearly for it was the first time after many years when she allowed herself to cry like that. She cried for what she had lost and for what she thought she had lost. She cried until she was sure there were no more tears to spill. She cried and then she went numb.

And thinking that all those tears were caused because she went to take a piss was so ridiculous that it made her want to laugh all over again.

Gendry

The invitation to Winterfell was probably the best news he had received in a while. He never thought he would say this, but he needed out of Flee Bottom as soon as possible. It may have been his home once, but it didn't feel like it anymore. The cruelty he witnessed everyday was unbearable. The queen had certainly lost her mind and if by any chance she found out he was still alive, she would undoubtedly want to fix that awful mistake.

However that was not the only reason the idea of heading to Winterfell intrigued him so much. That place brought back memories Gendry had tried rather hard to forget. Not that he'd ever been there, but her endless discriptions were detailed enough to make it possible for him to picture this place exactly as it was.

He took a deep breath as he allowed his horse to lead him. The memory of a little girl's face, full of sheer determination, endless stubborness and unbreakable strength entered his mind but once again, he tried so hard to push it away for it was more than likely that she was nothing more than a bag of bones by now. He knew, though, that heading North would only fuel those memories instead of making them fade away. Much as he wanted to meet her brother, who he had heard so much about, and her sister, he knew how much pain interacting with them would cause him.

The sorrow that now covered him made him realise just how much Arya had actually meant to him. She was a pain in the ass, yes. But the traits he admired about her were far more than those that annoyed him.

"I can be your family" she had said. And right then and there he realised she had been the closest thing to family he had had in a while. And now she was probably gone.

Jon

"I once heard the story of a lion and a wolf becoming unlikely allies to take revenge upon a lioness who had betrayed them both. It seems not every lion is eager to bend the knee to his queen. I know a few who are not."

That was the third time Sansa read the note out-loud and every time the shock on her face was more than evident. But above all she looked confused, as was he.

"What could the meaning of this be?" she asked as she finally placed the small piece of paper on his desk.

"I think the meaning is clear enough. It's the intention that's clouded." he replied.

"Could he really be that stupid as to think we will fall for his tricks? I don't get it."

"That's exactly what worries me. If this is a trap, how can he be so sure we will believe him? He's the bloody Kingslayer. I just.." Jon was at a loss for words. This situation was utterly new to him, he didn't know what to make of it.

"Let's get a few things straight. Jaime Lannister has always been blindly devoted to Cersei. If what we've been hearing all these years is true, the love they have for each other is something more than the love between siblings" Sansa paused then, and as her gaze met Jon's he could see her cheeks slightly turning red. "But.." she continued, "he's also been kind too. He was kind to me and he was kind to his Imp brother, even when everyone else mocked him shamelessly. What if he's not what people think of him, after all? What if he's always secretly wanted to stand up to his sister, but never found the courage to?"

"That is all a bit too romantic, don't you think? This is clearly a trap, we can't trust him just because he's done two or three decent things amongst his thousand sins." his tone was strict now and as soon as he spoke that way he instantly regretted it. But Sansa's expression didn't seem hurt. It was fire that was burning inside the blue of her orbs.

"All I am saying is we should handle this carefully. If we are too quick to make assumptions it is more than likely that we will make a grand mistake. We ought to consider all the possible explanations behind his actions before making a final decision."

Jon was surprised by the certainty in her words. Her thinking was political while he often caught himself being overwhelmed by emotion. If they managed to find themselves on common ground they could achieve a lot.

"I'm sorry. I know you're trying to help but the responsibility I bear is too big, too sudden." he sighed then, thinking of the amount of information he had received in only one day. Apart from the Kingslayer's letter, he had also been informed about a Baratheon bestard he had previously known nothing about. Could he be yet another possible heir to the Iron Throne? Jon had no patience to think about that too, so he made no reference to Sansa about it. They had enough problems already.

"You are right." he said, focusing on the task at hand. "We need to be careful. Do you have anything in mind?" he asked her, deciding he should trust her judgement.

"I do, actually. There is someone who could give us some insight on Lord Jaime's way of thinking. She travelled with him long enough and she even seems to have developed a bond with him. Maybe she sees something in him that we don't."

"She?" Jon asked, curiosity taking over him.

"We should send someone call for Brienne of Tarth. I'm sure she will have plenty to say."

-End of chapter 1-