don't own Ranma or Martin. Mores the pity, since I would have stopped both authors from making the mistakes they did. Ah well.
Minor rant: OH MY FUCKING GOD, I hate it when I look through fanfiction and I see Mpreg and yaoi shit. Mpreg is just fucking wrong, I don't even think it's right if it's a sex-changer. Yaoi is easy to avoid if it is marked correctly, but having Harry/Hermione as characters and then saying Harry/Draco (I just threw up a little in my mouth) without stating Draco as a character in the summary is a fucking trap worthy of an admiral Ackbar impression.
Fem Harry is another pet peeve, but I suppose it is okay so long as she's not paired with… well any male really. Sorry, I just don't get it.
Anyway, I recently got into Transformers fanfiction, and I thought I could do something with that universe – not so much one generation or another, but all of them cobbled together. I really like the Arcee character from Prime, though I am wondering about a woman's perspective on her and on the original Transformers universe, So Janissa, what, if anything, do you think about it?
If anyone is interested, PM me, and I would be very willing to exchange ideas, see what other people think. Frankly lately I've come up with a lot of ideas (Ranma X Sailor Moon, HP X Star Wars, Ranma X Transformers, HP X HOTD, HP X HSDXD, Ranma X X-men, Ranma X Oh My Goddess), and I might, just maybe, be creating a one-shot archive. Not certain though.
I want to thank all of my reviewers, thank you for your continued support. This is, in many ways, the most ambitious project I have taken up, not only in complexity, but in the number of characters, and the type of original tale.
I realized writing this that I made another mistake: I referred to Stannis as Robert's Regent while Robert went north, but it was in fact Renly – for some reason I got their names confused in my mind. I have gone back and corrected this.
I would like to thank Jessolt for his work as a beta, without him this chapter like all my others would be nowhere near the level of writing they are now. I'd also like to thank Wal Otter for a bit of this, he'll know which bit, and special thanks to Trinel for answering some nitpicky questions about ASoIaF that I could not get from the wiki or my own memory.
Chapter 4 Shadows Hide Many Things
It took the marsh hunters a while to figure out how to transport the giant lizard lion, since it was actually far bigger than any of the hunting coracles, but no one complained. A prize of this nature came along once a generation. Eventually, Meera, after searching rather forlornly for her pike, ordered several of the crannogmen to tie their boats together, allowing them to then tie the giant beast to them all in turn. During this, Meera also satisfied her curiosity about why this mature lizard lion had been in an area with so many humans around. It turned out that the bull had lost its testicles at some point in the past month or so. Such a thing wasn't really common because their testicles were protected behind an armor plate that only receded when it was time for the actual mating since, like with many animals, mating was more akin to rape than anything else. This time however its chosen female had some more fight in her than this old bull had expected.
It took them an hour to tie the beast's carcass down on the boats, then another hour to get back but word had gone ahead of the party and they were met at the edge of the solid ground around Moat Cailin by two worried parents and a worried direwolf.
Meera jumped straight from the foremost boat up onto the pier and was swiftly engulfed in a hug from her father, her ribs creaking a little for all that she stood a full head higher than him. "If I'd known what a monster was out there lass, I'd never have let you go." His low, rasping voice was even more scratchy than normal with emotion. Lord Reed turned to Ranma. "Thank you for saving my daughter, Ranma Stark."
Ned was never one to show much affection in public but the hard handclasp he gave his son and the pride in his eyes was more than enough to show Ranma what he felt. Ranma, flushed a little at that and the looks of respect in the surrounding soldiers and hunter's eyes, tried to change the subject a little. "I'm sorry father, I lost the blade house Glover sent me for my last nameday."
The sword had snapped in several places after Ranma had rammed it up into the lizard lion's mouth during the beast's death throes. After it had finished thrashing around, they had only found the tip of the sword still lodged in its mouth, the others having been flung out into the muck and mire, or possibly ingested, Ranma wasn't certain which, nor did he care.
Ned barked a laugh. "Ha, a cheap price to pay for that beast, my son, and for the two of you returning safe and whole."
At that point, Meera began to tell the tale of how she and Ranma had killed the giant beast, a tale that drew several more clumps of feasters to her. Surprisingly, Robert was not among them, having retired early to his tent with a crannog woman. A little while later, Howland asked Ranma what he wanted to do with the carcass. "As it was you who killed it, it's yours Ranma. The armor of this beast would compare well to even full plate and be much more flexible. That is what I'd recommend for you to do with it, though we don't have a blacksmith or leather worker I'd trust to do the job here. Even if we did though, it would take weeks of hard work to create a single suit of lizard armor."
Ranma thought for moment, then smiled faintly. "Could you send the skin to Winterfell? I would trust our blacksmith there to work with your leather workers to make the most of this find. I'd like for it to be made into armor for myself, Jon, Daryn Hornwood, and Ed Karstark. We're all of a size after all, so fitting out Jon would make armor for the rest of us. The bones and everything else, they can be used to make bows and handles for blades, correct?"
"Aye, they ain't as good weapons as dragon bones but they actually make better bows, or so tis said. From such a carcass as this, we could make at least a dozen composite bows." an old hunter, face gaunt and aged with lank white hair answered, tapping a short bow by his side. It was only when he did, that Ranma realized it was white and yellow, the color of bone rather than any wooden color.
"Then let's do that as well, as many as can be made, for my siblings but also for Meera and the other heirs of the noble houses." We might not have come up with the name ourselves but we are wolf-sworn and, like a pack of wolves, though we are apart, we are together still. After Howland agreed to do that, smirking slightly at his daughter's gob-smacked expression, the group began to break up, the King's party knowing they would be out on the road early the next morning.
OOOOOOO
Used to waking up early after so many days on the road, Myrcella was the first to get up. Even if the party wouldn't set off for a while yet, the children had to be ready to go quickly, along with the Queen. She pouted as she looked around, not seeing Ranma around waiting for them, which had become a fixture on this trip. She knew it was silly of her but that hadn't stopped Myrcella from developing a crush on the oldest Stark sibling. Despite his, at times, stern Stark features, Ranma was warm, kind, outgoing, and funny to go with his obvious strength. All the things she would love to see in a betrothed.
I know it's hopeless, she thought to herself as she entered the inn's bathing area, which the Queen had taken over entirely the evening before for their party. Her body moving on automatic, Myrcella began to undress after testing the water in the tub. The bath was warm, heated by a hearth or something underneath it, she guessed. For one, Sansa and Joffrey are to wed, regardless of my own feelings about that, so there is no need to tie the Stark family to ours with another marriage. For another, Ranma already has a betrothal lined up. And for a third, he treats me more like a sister than my own older brother!
The young girl pouted as she looked at herself in the large mirror that Cersei had dragged along on this trip. She cupped her barely formed teats for a moment, sighing. Maybe if I were older or had already started to blossom, then mayhap if Sansa and Joffrey didn't work out, and fat chance of that happening, I could somehow convince my parents of it but no, that's wishful thinking at best. With a final sigh, Myrcella moved over to the tub, getting in and sighing luxuriantly while waiting for the Queen, Sansa, and the others.
Later, she saw Joffrey, who had elected to stay here in the inn rather than 'rough it' at the Moat with their father, the King. He was once more regaling Sansa with a made up tale of prowess in some form or another. No, Myrcella realized, Joffrey was reciting poetry to the naïve northern girl. I wonder what Sansa would think if she knew those poems she gushes over weren't originals he made up on the spot for her but ones Joffrey stole from professional poets out of the Reach? He's only changing the name of the woman in them, for the Seven's sake! While still very young, Myrcella had spent almost her entire life in the court and knew when someone was putting on a false front, especially her own older brother. She had also heard that exact poem before, sung in honor of her mother at one point.
Myrcella frowned, however, when she noticed, as Sansa turned to address Jeyne, the look of vitriol Joffrey sent Tommen's way as her younger sibling raced up to her, smiling. Myrcella, in an act she would never have even thought of doing before this trip, quickly crossed the distance between them, pulling Tommen around behind her while glaring back at Joffrey.
His eyes widened for a moment, then he glared at her as well before he smoothed his features back to normalcy as their mother came out to usher them all up into the coach. Tommen looked up at her questioningly but Myrcella merely shook her head with a smile, then made certain to sit Tommen as far away from Joffrey as possible in the carriage.
About two hours travel time took their much smaller band to Moat Cailin where the rest of the party was waiting for them. Myrcella gasped in astonishment, a sound that drew the attention of the others in the carriage, causing all of them to look out of the window. By the road leading north was the carcass of a monstrous lizard lion, which was being held up on a huge skinning bed.
The King, Lord Stark, Ranma, and Lord Reed all stood by it along with an older girl she didn't know standing beside the diminutive Lord Reed, with the Kingsguard and the rest of their party already on horses nearby. As the carriage came up level with them, Myrcella could hear her father saying. "By the Seven lad, take me with you the next time you go hunting! You certainly find more interesting game than I have in many a year!"
As the others around the King broke into laughter with their King, Tommen went wide-eyed. As soon as the carriage stopped, he ignored his mother's hissed instructions to stay put and bolted out of the carriage toward his hero.
Joffrey followed, more because he knew that his father would once more insist on his riding rather than remaining in the carriage, than because he was really interested. The oldest Baratheon sibling saw his father nod cordially at Tommen, an acknowledgment that, despite how lukewarm it was, none of the Baratheon children had ever seen from their father before. Hate for his youngest sibling curdled within him and he glared daggers at Tommen's small back. Cersei noticed the nod as well and wondered what it could mean for the future but didn't see, or perhaps willfully ignored like so many other things, the look her oldest son was giving her youngest.
On the other hand, Myrcella noticed it once again. Even as Ranma modestly waved off Tommen's entreaty to tell him the story behind the massive lizard lion, she watched Joffrey through narrowed eyes, wondering what her older brother was going to do. She blushed faintly as Ranma looked toward the carriage, his blue eyes alight with humor. He bowed in their direction, then turned and, after raising the youngster into his saddle, grasped the reins of his horse. He then made his way over to them, already spinning a tale for Tommen. "Ah, I'm bored of telling that tale already, Tommy. Besides, its short and not very funny or interesting. How about this one: There once was a kingdom, whose inhabitants were so strong and powerful they were called demons by their neighbors. Now, to the royal family of this land was born a princess, who longed for adventure. Her chance to get away for a bit was realized when her nation decided to invade a very tiny neighboring nation. Instead of conquering it however, the demon kingdom always gave their opponents a chance, deciding their invasion by contests of all sorts, including simple games. This time they decided to see who would win a game of tag, between the princess or a randomly chosen noble of the country they were invading…"
Sansa blinked then looked at Jeyne, who shook her head. They hadn't heard this story before! Ranma smiled warmly at his sister, before ruffling her hair, affectionately, ignoring her pout with ease while nodding in Myrcella's direction, causing Myrcella to smile at him shyly.
Around them the cavalcade got going. Lord Stark and Lord Reed had put their heads together to think up ways to make this part of the trip move faster resulting in Ned commissioning boats to carry the luggage and many of the servants while the party continued on horseback (and carriage) down the causeway. The boats carrying the food would come out of the secret waterways to abut the causeway every evening. In this manner, they would be able to go faster. This part of the trip was no fun for anyone so even Robert was fine with speeding their way through. The party would eat the midday meal while moving, no afternoon stops, no hunting or carousing, simply because the view in the Neck was not one anyone but a crannogman could love.
As Ranma regaled the children with tales of the Tomobiki district near Nerima, where the insanity was greater even if the amount of combat was much less, the last of the soldiers mounted up and they moved off. Behind them, the smallfolk started to carve up and skin the lizard lion for its trip to Winterfell. Even starting with the softer belly shell it was very tough going, making it obvious that the hide would make extremely good armor, even if the cost of making it would be quite high.
Lord Reed stood and watched the party move down the causeway through the massive gates of the one wall that had still been intact from the old castle, wondering what his friend Ned would face, hoping against hope that he would take his words about not trusting other people's honor to heart. In a pocket of his cloak, he held two letters that would go north with the lizard lion, which he dearly hoped would not be the last such missive sent, even if he would not be the one delivering the others.
OOOOOOO
Greywater Watch was not much of a castle, being more a large wooden palisade around a single two story keep made of stone. Despite this, it was next to impossible to siege because it was impossible to find in the first place. Greywater was built on a crannog, a man-made island that moved randomly over the waters of the Neck, which made it impossible for any invaders to find it. This was the seat of House Reed, Lord of the Neck.
At present, of course, Howland was absent but his wife, Jyana, and his young son, Jojen, were still present along with their servants and a few guards/hunters. Here in the marsh, there were no men-at-arms, although every man knew his way with a pike and most crannogmen were expert archers and hunters.
Jyana spent much of her time these days looking after her youngest child, who had collapsed several weeks ago like a marionette with his strings cut. Since then Jojen hadn't opened his eyes or even stirred at all. So it was with shock that Jyana saw him awake when she came in from grabbing a tray of food for herself. She moved forward quickly, laying a gentle hand on his brow. "Jojen, oh my son, I am so glad you've woken up. You've been in some kind of fever dream for the past few weeks! How are you feeling?"
Jojen did not answer his mother directly, instead staring past her shoulder further north. When he spoke, it was in the riddles of a seer, a talent the Reeds had known he possessed for many years, though Jyana thought it more a curse than a gift. "The eyes that have been closed may yet be opened. The future has changed, yet the green abides. The choice must be made between the green and the builder." It was only after he finished speaking this odd line that the ten year old boy looked at his mother with eyes far older and wiser than his years. "I must go to Winterfell."
OOOOOOO
Three weeks after she had taken them, Catelyn's wounds had at last receded, allowing her to talk at a normal level, something all her family and advisors were happy about, save for one. Rickon had at first welcomed his mother back to health but when she ordered him to continue to take lessons with Lady Jonelle, that had faded rapidly. She still refused to leave the healing hall for long but this didn't stop her from becoming more active in the family and the castle. Still the healing area became an impromptu center for the castle business, with Catelyn throwing herself into the work even as she kept one eye on her still comatose son.
A few days after her recovery, Catelyn sent a servant to fetch Arya to her. It was nighttime by this point, and Catelyn stood at the window, staring out into the dark. The window's panes had been repaired, but it was open now, allowing in the night air as well as letting her look out over Winterfell. Snow had fallen since the last time she had taken in the view and Catelyn shivered at the bite of the cold of the North, which seemed sharper somehow today than it had been since she arrived here all those years ago as a new bride.
She looked around at a diffident cough behind her. "You wanted to see me, mother?" Arya was dressed in her regular garb of pants and an overlarge coat. Nothing about it told of her station and it almost erased her gender from view, which made it a sort of example of the problem Catelyn had called her youngest daughter in to talk about.
"Come in Arya, and sit down." Arya did so, looking at her mother warily as Catelyn sat across from her at the small table that had been moved into the healing hall. The mother stared at the daughter for a time, then spoke. "You are my daughter, a highborn woman, yet you dress in rags like that in an attempt to run away from it. I have long allowed you some leeway, allowed you to follow your dreams of wielding a blade because of the agreement I made with Ranma. Yet you and I have never talked about why I felt that such lessons were a waste of time. I have only ever tried to cajole and browbeat you before this. Since it has obviously not worked, I have decided to try a new tact, explaining, in as blunt terms as I can use, why women perform an important job in our society."
Arya stiffened, fighting an urge to run, but stayed put, one hand on Nymeria's head, where the direwolf pup had placed her head in her mistress's lap. While not as large as Ghost, Nymeria was still already the size of a regular wolf, despite only being a bare five months old.
Having noticed her daughter's trepidation, Catelyn smiled faintly but her words were deadly serious as she spoke. "The role of women of stature in our society is to be the bridges that hold that society together by the oldest way imaginable, by that of blood." Arya looked up at her in surprise and Catelyn went on. "A wedding between two Houses can be used to improve the station of one House, to ensure the loyalty of one House to another, to forge alliances between Houses of the same stature. A marriage can win your family power, possibly even broker a peace between warring families or even nations. Eventually, as a Stark of Winterfell, you will be called upon to marry to make the family stronger. As such, you must know the skills all girls of your stature know, the better to bring more suitors."
At this point, Arya had held her silence as long as she could and now she exploded, years of silently building frustration and anger coming out. "I hate that! I hate it, hate the idea of only being important because of what my, my maidenhead can bring! I want to be my own person, to be important in my own right rather than as simply a, a bridge between our family and another! Why can't I be free to make my own way in the world?!"
"Would you be willing to give up your family to achieve that dream?" Catelyn asked archly. "Would you leave your siblings, me, your father, and Winterfell behind for such an uncertain future?" Arya's silence was her answer and Catelyn smiled faintly. "I know that you hate this but your hate will not change what is. Yet, nor will I continue to try to change you."
Arya looked up in shock at that while Catelyn's smile turned grim. "Times are changing, winter is coming like the family motto says and softness in winter can spell death. If you are to be married, the man you marry will know precisely what he gets, a wolf as well as a lady." Arya smiled at that, but Catelyn's next words brought her down to earth. "Yet, I will have your word as a Stark, here and now, that when the time comes to do your duty, you will enter into it with, if not happiness, then at least understanding because it is your duty to your family. I will try my hardest, and you know your father will as well, to find you a match with a man who will appreciate you for who you are, but your marriage may be too important to put off for reasons such as that. Until then Arya, you are free to continue your lessons with Dacey with my blessing, so long as you also continue you lessons with Jonelle on decorum, the maester with history and with me in land management."
Arya frowned heavily but the allure of getting her mother's blessing for training now won over the far distant unpleasantness of marriage. After all, she had years to go yet before she had to figure out a way out of that. "I swear it mother, so long as the man isn't too old, smelly, or boorish, I won't make trouble when the time comes."
"I suppose that's the best I can get." Catelyn chuckled quietly. "Now, tell me about the battle that occurred a few days back." Arya looked at her quickly to see Catelyn smiling coldly at her. "Did you think I wouldn't see through that flimsy lie you and the others concocted? Please, I'm your mother, I know these things."
The question and answer section when on for a time, then Catelyn told Arya to find Jon, wanting to speak to them both. When Jon entered, Catelyn immediately asked him, "So did you find anything out from the prisoners you took? And why didn't you mention the fact you took prisoners to me after the attack occurred?" She refrained from mentioning his choice to let Arya fight. She had meant to take him to task strongly about that, but Arya had defended him, saying she would have followed anyway. Dacey wasn't off the hook just yet, but that could wait.
"Nothing concrete, ma'am. Just the fact that their leader had found someone who was willing to pay for them to sack Winterfell. I've sent a runner to the Wull to see what he can tell us about this, predominately how such a large band of men moved through his territory unimpeded. The mountain clans should have taken these men to pieces in their mountains. Instead, they came out unscathed and within striking distance of Winterfell without being seen. If I had found anything concrete from the prisoners, I would, of course, have told you."
Catelyn waved that off. "Was there anything to tie the attacker's mysterious benefactor to the Lannisters?"
Jon spoke carefully, not liking the way Catelyn seemed to brush off what he said about none of their prisoners having known anything. "I apologize, Lady, but again, there was no proof of who their backer was. Moreover, this was set in motion long before the King arrived. The travel time through the mountains for a group of any size would be measured in months, not weeks. No ma'am, this has nothing to do with the Lannisters."
It was obvious this did not sit well with the former Tully woman, whose hot-blooded nature sometimes came to the fore. Yet she reined it in for now. "Very well, I'll concede the point. Though I think the Lannisters are somehow behind this, I won't allow myself to concentrate on that to the exclusion of all else. Now, on to more immediate topics: I understand that you, Ser Rodrick, and Maester Luwin have between you been dealing with the running of the land. Arya and I will both now be taking part in those decisions."
Arya looked at her in surprise and some consternation but Catelyn merely smiled grimly. "You want to be the equal of a man then you will have to take on the duties of a man, as well."
That made Arya's back straighten up, and she nodded resolutely. "I am a Stark of Winterfell, mother. I will do my duty."
Life in Winterfell passed relatively quietly for the next few days as the furor over the attackers died down. Dacey (after a very uncomfortable talk with the Lady of the House) remained in Winterfell as Arya's mentor/bodyguard/trainer. Hathan and his new retainers moved on to his new holdfast, taking with them some servants, who were working at jobs below their abilities here in Winterfell.
Theon had left the day after Catelyn's… discussion with Dacey, headed to White Harbor with Ser Wendel and his party, who were returning home with the plans for their part in supplying the whelming. Ser Wendel bore a letter signed by Lady Catelyn and Rickon asking for Theon to be given an advisors role in their supply operations, as well as two sealed envelopes for their Lord. One was from Lord Stark prepared before he left, detailing some plans between the two men, as well as asking Lord Manderly to ask his factors for any news they could get their hands on the man thought needful for Ned to know. Wyman Manderly was among the most intelligent and far thinking lords of the North. Both Catelyn and Ned respected 'the pufferfish's' political acumen. This was why Catelyn had chosen to send her own letter to the man, updating him on recent events as well as giving her own opinion about them and asking for his opinion.
Arya, while not having much to contribute, did indeed join the meetings to discuss readying the White Knife for supplies, making certain all the farms in the area were producing as much as they should, and gathering in supplies. Men also began to ready the winter village (the large village that surrounded Winterfell that was practically empty save for the whorehouse and the market) for inhabitants while at the same time preparing Winterfell itself for more people. The crispness of the night air, the heaviness of the clouds in the sky, the random snowfall, all of it pointed to one thing: the coming of winter. Arya only had something to contribute when it came to the construction aspect and, even there, not much but she was at least trying her best. With Catelyn there as well, she didn't allow her irritation at being forced to be part of the meetings to be seen.
This new routine was interrupted several days after Lady Catelyn recovered from her wounds. As had become usual, the extended family of the Starks and her advisers had dinner in the healing area, something that had at first confused and irritated the servants, but they had long since gotten used to it.
Most of the time, the direwolves would be outside playing at this time of day since Lady Catelyn still wasn't over her, rather irrational in her daughter's opinion, fear of the beasts. The only exception was Bran's direwolf, who simply hid under his bed when someone tried to force him out of the room. He never growled, barked, or anything, unlike Shaggydog, who had become quite wild before Lady Jonelle took Rickon in hand. Thankfully, it seemed as if the boy's self-control and education had an effect on the direwolf pup as well. So used to the presence of Bran's direwolf had Catelyn become that she didn't even notice his growling as she, Jonelle, Arya, Dacey, the maester, and Ser Rodrick sat down to dine.
Jon might have but he wasn't here this evening. He and Ghost had gone on an expedition to House Mollen to see how they were coming with their project of taming the White Knife in their territory. He was due back the next day and his report would be very interesting indeed. It turned out that the White Knife could be tamed enough to allow medium-sized barge transports. Lord Dorrel Mollen had found a young man who was a genius at creating pulleys and levers which aided the effort tremendously. They could even be used around the occasional waterfall found along the White Knife.
The meal had been over for a few hours at this point but they all lingered around the table going over business, even Arya, since her mother kept glaring at her every time she looked as if she wanted to run off. Now, however, they were talking about something that interested Arya a lot and her attempts to leave stopped.
"So the next shipment of food and other supplies will be ready before the White Knife has been tamed, unless Jon has something surprising to say about the progress being made on that project. We'll be faced with a choice, either to keep it here, try to send it up to the Wall by land, or over to the White Harbor overland. Your thoughts, Ser Rodrick?" asked Catelyn. Her eyes were shrewd as she looked over at the master of arms, who was Jon's second in command of the whelming.
"It would be faster to send it to White Harbor, milady. A convoy of foodstuffs traveling up to the Wall would take a minimum of six months, maybe longer if the conditions worsen. From here over to White Harbor, two months and then another week and a half, going by Lord Wendell's estimate, to get it up to the wall."
Maester Luwin asked, "So, when our men plus those of Hornwood and Cerwyn arrive, how many men will the Nights Watch have on the Wall?"
Ser Rodrick reached over to a pile of parchment on the table but Arya beat him to it, pulling out a piece of paper that a raven had delivered to them that morning. "It says that House Umber's first group of troops have already arrived and the Karstark men have been sighted and are nearly to the Wall. So plus ours… Lord Hornwood is sending six hundred archers and spearmen… Flint of Flint's finger is sending up five hundred, I think Jon said… I would say that would put their total numbers at around… more than five thousand, with two thousand being our men." That last was said proudly, Arya being proud of the strength her family could call on.
"A goodly number, for any defensive action." said Luwin, smiling a little at the girl's eagerness for anything involving battle. "Until one thinks of how large the Wall truly is."
Dacey waved that off however. "The Wall is such a strong defensive position that any one man on it is worth a thousand or even two thousand attackers. Yes, you have to spread them out, but," she paused shaking her head a little, one hand going to her stomach as it grumbled at her. "Y, your pardon I seem to be feeling a little ill for some reason. W-where was I?"
Ser Rodrick put his stein of beer down looking at the younger woman quizzically and shook his own head, one hand going to his own stomach. "I'm, my stomach is…
Arya clutched her stomach for a moment, fighting back a wave of nausea.
Lady Catelyn stood up abruptly. "Excuse me a moment." She ran out the room, heading towards the nearest garderobe. Arya and the others all stood up as one, almost, with Arya rushing over to the single window of the healing hall. The adults rushed out the door, with the men swiftly moving towards the nearest arrowslits, tearing their shutters open and heaving the contents of their stomachs out the narrow windows, while the women made for the nearest garderobe.
Not even two minutes later, the servant who had brought them their food came into the healing hall, smirking villainously. He was not a man known in Winterfell, for he, in fact, was not a normal servant. The excuse he had given for asking for employment was that he needed some money to purchase enough food to get him back to his home in the lands controlled by Flint of Flint Finger's but that was a lie. In fact, he was a cut purse, a murderer for hire, though nothing like the trained assassins of the God of Many Faces. He was simply a low level sort of vermin that could be found practically anywhere, even here in the North.
He had agonized for weeks on how to do this job. He had even thought at one point to simply give it up as a bad job, to take the money he'd already been paid and run with it. But for some reason, he had decided to stay with it, possibly because it had been the Crown Prince who had hired him. Yet, more likely, it was because Joffrey had threatened him with the Hound, who terrified him as any big dangerous predator would a smaller predator. This man well knew he couldn't hide from someone like Sandor Clegane, no matter how long it would take the Hound to find his scent.
Nonetheless, it had taken him weeks to think of a way to get the Lady Catelyn out of the room and for the furor to die down enough so that the guards on the door would no longer be present. A mild dose of food poisoning, mixing in tainted raw meat with the heavy chowder had done for that well enough. It would be several hours before any of the ones who ate it would recover, including the two guards who had eaten prior to the family eating in their room. Of course, it would raise suspicions but by then he would be long gone.
He stopped however when he saw Arya at the open arrowslit, cursing internally. He hadn't realized the window in this room had been repaired, since before this it had been covered by a wooden panel. Before he could think of what to do, Bran's direwolf crawled out from under the bed and stood before him, growling angrily, his teeth bared.
The man froze as Arya turned from the window, her face green and one hand on her stomach, but still in charge of her faculties enough to realize what the man was trying to do. "Wh-what are you doing!" One hand scrambled at her side, but Fang was in her room, Catelyn not wanting her armed at their evening meals.
"What does it look like, you little wild bitch." the man muttered, his eyes locked on the direwolf in front of him. He'd heard what the things could do in defense of their masters. It was well he had, because at that moment the wolf charged him, mouth open.
Arya threw up again but her mind was working despite this. The moment she recovered, she opened the connection she had to Nymeria and sent a desperate thought down it. Pack mate danger, come to me!
In front of Arya, the would-be assassin sidestepped left, trying to stab the direwolf with his knife in an overhand blow and catching the animal a glancing blow along the neck. But this was a mere nick to the direwolf, who turned his head and snapped at the murderer's hand in an attempt to mangle it. The man cursed, stepping backwards, his knife once more between him and the wolf. He lunged forward with the weapon in an underhand grip, trying to get the direwolf in the eye.
The direwolf sprang backwards but still was caught by the knife high up in one shoulder, which tore a portion of fur off, adding to the number of scars this direwolf had gained in its fight with the previous assassin. He yipped and backed away still snarling, while on the floor Arya had thrown up again, cursing how useless she felt right now.
The man grinned and pressed forward, but at that point the door to the healing hall banged open. Suddenly, Shaggydog and Nymeria were there, bounding forward, snarling. Before he could turn to face this new threat, Nymeria had her teeth in one of the man's legs, ripping and tearing at the hamstrings behind his knee.
"AHHHGG!" The man fell to the ground screaming, waving the knife wildly, but Shaggydog dodged in, grabbing his wrist in his mouth. He wasn't big enough to simply bite it off like Ghost or Fenris could, but he could tear a large chunk out of it, rendering that hand useless. "YEEEEE!" The man screamed again high-pitched, yowling in agony, but that ended abruptly as Nymeria went for the kill, ripping out his throat.
Even as the alarm was raised in the keep, the servants and guards responding to all the screaming, the pack moved together. Shaggydog and Nymeria began to lick at the wounds Bran's direwolf had taken, rubbing their heads against him consolingly. Nymeria turned to her mistress but was waved off, as Arya, leaning back against the wall underneath the window, looked at the bloody corpse, then rubbed her stomach. Strangely enough, the sight of the dead man wasn't making her any sicker.
A sound from the bed drew her attention. She and the wolves turned to gaze happily at the sight of Bran, sitting up and yawning in bed. He looked at the three direwolves and the dead man. But rather than be aghast or scared, Bran merely nodded and reached out to his direwolf with one hand. His bonded partner moved forward hesitantly, at first, then with more enthusiasm licking and snuffling at his master's hand. Then he finally had time to look at his sister. "Hello, sister, you stink."
Arya raised one fist at him mock threateningly but couldn't keep the wide grin off her face. She made to stand up but her stomach gurgled at her and she turned to throw up once again out of the window. Seeing this, her brother shook his head.
Bran felt as if he had come out of a waking dream, although the reality of what lay on the floor made him wonder if the dream was over yet. The sight of his sister being sick was odd but at least he could understand it, unlike his dreams. In them, Bran had been flying, his spirit flying in the air, as he had longed to do for so long, and then he was falling, falling into an abyss constantly, never in control, never able to find his way back home and back to his body. Then the three-eyed crow had appeared, who somehow Bran knew was more than a mere crow, even a three eyed one. It had led Bran home, led him back to his own body.
Now Bran slowly slid out of the bed, testing his legs and finding them a little wobbly because of all the time he had spent lying down. He sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his direwolf's head in his hands and gently stroking his fur.
The moment Lady Jonelle had joined her in the garderobe, Catelyn knew there was something wrong. After a few minutes, she forced herself to her feet, ignoring through sheer willpower the urge to throw up again and rushed back to the healing hall. She looked inside and gasped in horror at the sight of the man on the ground, with the direwolves all sitting around him, looking between her, the bed, and her daughter, who was covered with some of her own sick and leaning against the room's open window. The bed however held a sight that drove her horror of the dead man's corpse out of her head. Bran, her second son, her baby, her darling dreamer, was sitting upright and smiling happily at her.
"His name is Summer," Bran said, patting his newly christened direwolf on the head. "Because though winter is coming, summer is always the hope of man."
OOOOOOO
Jon came back the next day, taking a page out of Ranma's book on the last day of the journey to get back that much faster. He ran the entire day, breathing deeply and easily as Ghost bounded alongside him, leaving behind the five men-at arms that he had been traveling with.
He waved at a few guards he saw on the walls of the Keep, stiffening slightly as he noticed their alert, guarded movement along the wall. Suspicion darkening his mind, Jon raced into the keep then up to the still guarded healing hall, where he found Bran and his direwolf sitting in bed together, while the maester once again went over them.
The maester hadn't recovered as quickly as Catelyn or the others had, being an older man and not nearly as hardy. Still, he was on his feet now and going over everyone who had eaten that evening. It hadn't just been the Starks and their advisors; it had also been their guards and several others that had eaten from the same ruined meal. Even so, all of them were on the mend. It was obvious that the murderer had placed the tainted food into the soup to get just this reaction.
Catelyn, sitting up in another bed nearby and watching her son with joy in her eyes, looked up as Jon entered. "You missed a bit of excitement, Jon." she said dryly.
Jon looked at the dagger on the table as well as the bloody coin pouch, then his now awake brother and asked simply "What did I miss?" Bran and Arya filled him in while Jon picked up the dagger, looking at it carefully. "This is a Valyrian dagger, I recognize the characteristics from seeing Ice. Who would give this to a common cut purse, whatever their mission?"
"I know precisely who." Catelyn replied coldly. "One of the Lannisters." Jon looked at her skeptically but she nodded her head firmly. "I remember one of them saying that he had won that knife off the King. I can't remember who though. I think it might've been the Imp."
Jon, however, was much more skeptical. "What possible reason could Tyrion have to try to assassinate Bran, especially after all this time and given the fact he was wounded in the first attempt? I will warn you again, milady, don't get so focused on one answer that you neglect to search for others. Who knows, someone else might have won that dagger off Tyrion after that conversation."
He picked up the bloody pouch, opening it, and pouring out the money, whistling a little as the coins poured out. "Gold dragons again, five of them. Someone had money to waste. Which argues against it having been the Imp, he's not so frivolous as all that, and he didn't have much money to call his own."
"Maybe he spent it all on paying the man who tried to kill Bran!" Catelyn exclaimed angrily. "Why can't you see that they are involved in this?!"
"Because there is no real proof." Jon answered back calmly, keeping his own temper under control with ease, emphasizing his words with the very calmness he said them with. "There is supposition, there is possibility, but there is no real proof to connect any Lannister, let along Tyrion, to this crime. All we can tell from this is that Bran saw something that someone is still terrified of letting anyone know about."
That line of thought derailed Catelyn's growing anger at Jon not seeing the truth as she thought of it. She wanted to blame someone for this assault on her son. She wanted vengeance but Catelyn knew she had to wait and choose her target carefully; she couldn't go haring off in search of vengeance. With Ranma not here and with Bran only just recovered and still so young, she had to stay here to watch over the family.
She trusted Jon, of course. Over the years since Ranma's revelation she had come to see him as a nephew of sorts and did not hold his status as a Snow against him. However, other people would hold that status against the family if it looked like they trusted a bastard born too much, thinking them too trusting and gullible. It would also bring too much attention to him and some might question his origins if that occurred, bringing ruin on the Starks.
She turned to look over at Bran. "Can you remember anything, my son?"
Bran looked up from where he had been staring into Summer's eyes, shaking his head sadly. "I remember waking up that day and thinking I might go kind climbing to find the nests of some birds I noticed by the Old Tower but that's all except, except for golden hair and someone saying 'the things I do for love'. It was a man's voice, but that's all I can remember. I'm sorry." he finished, looking a little morose.
"Don't be, Bran." Jon said moving over and pulling him into a firm hug. "I'm just glad you're alive and well, your memories of what happened are more than a fair exchange for that." Bran snuffled a little, grabbing his older brother in a hug. Jon stood there for a moment ruffling his hair and smiling over at Catelyn who smiled back along with Arya.
Sitting next to Catelyn, Lady Jonelle smiled too. She had been one of those who had thought it odd that Jon was so well loved by the Starks and most particularly Lady Catelyn. But seeing him with Bran like this made it clear that Jon had a good soul to him. Though Jonelle didn't think she would have been strong enough to put up with one of her husband's baseborn children, it was obvious Catelyn had moved past that.
After a moment however, Catelyn brought their attention back to her with a gentle cough. She winced a little, one hand going to her stomach, frowning thoughtfully. "Maester Luwin, will the food poisoning have affected my pregnancy?"
Luwin shook his head. "There are some types of food poisoning that will have such an affect. my lady. However, this one won't have any long term effect on you or the baby." He looked over at Jonelle, who had stiffened with trepidation at Catelyn's words. "Nor will it have affected yours, Lady Jonelle, despite how far along you are."
The Lady of House Cerwyn breathed a sigh of relief and Catelyn decided to move back to the former topic of conversation. "Despite what Jon said, does anyone here not think that there is something going on down south, that this is not all connected to some larger scheme or plot of the Lannisters? The golden hair, the knife, my sister's message, the knight who hails from the Westerlands trying to kill Bran… the clues are building up. More and more, I am convinced that my husband and my oldest children are walking into a snake spit and I am stuck here, unable to help." Catelyn growled.
That sound actually made all the direwolves look at her in the wolf equivalent of surprise. They then resolved to be very respectful to the angry pupping mother.
None of the people in the room answered her for a moment. Not even Bran spoke up, though he looked a little quizzical, as if he couldn't quite follow the conversation. Jon moved back from his hug, patting Bran on the head. "I'll fill you in later."
He looked over at Lady Catelyn once more and shrugged. "We already called on your father to lend Lord Stark some men in Kings Landing, we could send a message to your sister, ask her for more proof against the Lannisters, or for aid in the form of men for Lord Stark, but that's all I can think of at present."
"We could send messages about this latest occurrence to the Red Keep," the maester thought musingly, "but I would wait until we can be reasonably certain that Lord Stark is there before doing so. Leaving a message like that unattended strikes me as a very bad idea. But that would tell Lord Stark that there was more to what Bran saw than we assumed."
"We could send another message to grandfather, mother." suggested Arya. "If I remember my geography lessons right, he could send a rider with a message to intersect the King's journey south."
Catelyn shook her head. "I like the idea of sending my father a message, but Lysa seems too overwrought to be trusted. I already sent two messages to her asking for more proof, one immediately after the initial attack on Bran and one after I recovered from my wounds. The one message I got back held no more proof than the first and was even more hysterical."
Luwin nodded. As master of ravens, he saw most messages as they came in. The Starks were aware of this and trusted him to not read anything he shouldn't. "I have seen that message and I agree that your sister seems too stressed to be trusted. There is more than grief in that, however, there is also fear. And people who are afraid can do odd things at times. I would recommend we give her time to get over the shock of her husband's death and time to let her son grow some more before we trust her state of mind."
Catelyn suddenly smiled, thinking of another family member she could call upon. One who she would swear would not have forgotten their family motto of 'family, duty, honor'. "Actually, don't send a message to my father. With his declining health, I don't want to put anymore strain on him. No, I have another place in mind for it…"
OOOOOOO
The trip through the Neck had been easily the most boring part of the trip so far, with the unchanging landscape on either side of the causeway, the lack of hunting for Robert, and the buzzing of bugs and odd noises from the bogs. Thankfully, it was also rather quicker than the trip down from Winterfell to the Moat. With the supplies and the servants who couldn't ride brought along by boat, it had taken two weeks to traverse the length of the neck. Every evening, the boats holding the parties supplies would come up to the causeway through secret waterways known only to the crannogmen, allowing them to set up camp, eat the evening meal, and replenish their daily supplies. This made the trip much faster than if they had to travel at the pace set by the carts. Even the carriage, with two teams of horses instead of one, didn't slow their pace down all that much.
Still, it was a relief for everyone when they began to see regular trees and solid ground ahead of them that was not part of the causeway. Once there, the servants began to reorganize the party's supplies as they came off the crannogmen's boats at a tiny wharf near where the causeway connected into the rest of the Kingsroad.
During this, Ranma shucked off his heavy wool and fur coat, as well as his chain mail for a moment, switching to a short sleeved leather jerkin. It had been getting noticeably warmer with every day they traveled south in the Neck, and it was very noticeable now. It wasn't warm by any means just yet, but it was solid autumn weather. The jerkin, however, was rather tight around his shoulders and Ranma grimaced a little. "I'll have to let this one out around the shoulders, father." he said looking up at Eddard who was leaning against his horse's side beside him.
Ranma ignored the looks he was getting from some of the female servants and, most especially, the look Jeyne was giving him with the ease of long practice. Jeyne had been pining away at him for years but she was not his type with a capital 'Oh Fuck No'. It wasn't even funny how not his type she was.
By his side, Fenris scratched behind one ear with his hind paw. The direwolf was now larger by a head than any dog or regular wolf and, judging by the size of his paws, still had quite a bit of growing to do. Before he finished up, Ranma estimated that Fenris would be as large as a warhorse. That would be interesting, especially if his strength was proportionate to his size...
"That will give you something to do for the evening. We won't be moving out from this place for until tomorrow, I would estimate, before all of this is ready to go again." Ned replied, looking at his son and smiling faintly as he saw the youngest Baratheon standing by his side, scratching at Fenris's neck.
Ranma grunted agreement then looked over at Tommen. "Come on, Tommy. We can get some training in while the servants are doing their work." Robert nodded approvingly at Tommen, causing the young boy to swell up with pride at finally being acknowledged by his father before chasing after his personal hero. They hadn't gotten past muscle exercises yet but Ranma had said he would start teaching him some speed exercises, as well as finger and wrist exercises.
Nearby, Joffrey scowled, staring at Ranma and his younger brother hatefully but quickly wiped it off his face as his mother came out of the carriage. Cersei looked over at Robert and Tommen as well. She had noticed this before; Robert actually acknowledging, for the first time, one of his children in a positive manner. In truth, she was rather torn about it.
She hated the man, no, worse, she loathed him with every fiber of her being, but if he acknowledged one of the children like this, then it might argue against certain…truths if they came to light, which could only help in the long run. Yet she needed to watch out for another reason. If he chooses to name my babe, my darling baby, as heir over my little lion, the consequences for my plans going forward could well be large indeed.
Cersei frowned thoughtfully looking at Robert through narrowed eyes, stepping aside to let her daughter, Sansa, and Jeyne out of the carriage. It might be that I need to move up my plans a bit to combat that…
Myrcella and Sansa knew nothing of the Queen's inner thoughts. They were best of friends by this point, along with Jeyne to a lesser extent, and the trio of girls stayed together as they watched the work progressing before the septa came out of the carriage, moving a little gingerly. The long trip was not doing her any favors and she had caught something while in the Neck which had sapped her strength further. But she grabbed all three of the girl's attention easily enough, moving them over and beginning to go through some etiquette lessons with the trio.
It was more busy work than anything but she didn't want any of her impressionable young charges to be near the work being done on the wharf, since even from here she could hear the cursing of the crannogmen and the servants as they tried to reorganize the jumble of packages and supplies. This was made more difficult by the fact many of the carts and drovers had turned back to House Cerwyn when they entered the Neck, not having been given leave by their lord to continue. Varys tried to negotiate with them to go on but they were all adamant at turning back, as their lord had commanded. Without Ned's aid, who backed them, Varys made no headway.
Eddard's approximation of the time needed to get the convoy moving again was spot on and the group bedded down by the wharf that evening; many of them in the small huts that the Neck's merchants used and others in tents with the men-at-arms in tents all around the royal family and the Starks. The trio of girls shared one hut with the Queen, her chief handmaiden, and the septa, while Robert and the men shared one, along with, to Ranma's disgust, Varys. He didn't like the eunuch, considering him a greasy little asshole. Having heard from Robert and others of his pederast tendencies, now every time the eunuch was near him, Ranma's fists itched. Alas, as master of whispers, his position was such Ranma couldn't simply kill him and dump his body in the Neck, as much as he wished to.
Around them the work continued through the night, readying the party to depart the next day.
With the warmth of the day, came the willingness of the Queen to actually get up without aid and she did so the next morning, looking around quizzically as she noticed that her daughter and Sansa were not in their cots. She looked over at the entrance to the small hut they had commandeered for the ladies and saw Jeyne leading them out. She sighed angrily. In her mind, Jeyne was a bit of a gossipy troublemaker and Myrcella and Sansa were all too willing to follow her lead at times. This wasn't the first time the trio had gone off during one of the stops, although she wondered what they were up to this time. Surely, there were no rabbits or other wild 'cute' animals around or anything else at this time of day that would interest three young ladies?
Cersei decided to follow them and got out of bed quietly, pulling on a dress, same one she had one last evening. She would normally never wear the same thing twice but it was ready to go and she wasn't about to waste the time to get more prepared for the day. Who knew what mischief the trio of girls would get up to in that time? She followed them swiftly, the ease of long practice allowing her to steal along quietly. Many a time she had met Jaime for one of their trysts in such a manner and she was easily able to move through the slowly waking crowd of servants and men-at-arms.
She was surprised when the girls reached the edge of the camp and kept on going, making her wonder once more where they were off to.
The evening before, Jayne had seen Ranma exercise with Tommen in one of the streams that fed into the neck. She also knew from long experience that Ranma got up in the early mornings to exercise. Watching him exercise was one of her (many) guilty pleasures. So, if he wasn't outside their tent/house waiting for them, it was obvious to her that Ranma would be exercising somewhere.
Ranma was indeed exercising in the middle of the stream, a small fast-moving stream about two yards across and only coming up to his knees but still nice and cool. He was also shirtless, his flat, exceptionally toned stomach and abs on display, the powerful corded muscles shifting visibly under his skin, his tanned skin making the scar along his side and on his shoulder standing out even more. If there was a single ounce of fat anywhere on his body, it wasn't apparent. He was going through some kind of exercise, hands and legs thrusting out quickly, moving in a pattern of some kind like he was dancing in place. None of the watchers knew it, but Ranma was going through one of the advanced katas of the Anything Goes School of martial arts. It was designed to increase your speed, as well as your coordination and agility.
Jayne blushed a little, licking her lips as she stared at Ranma's abs and shoulders. She was far and away the most experienced of the trio, though still technically a virgin, and to her Ranma was just yummy. Sansa simply blushed and looked away, furtively taking glances out of the corner of her eye at her older brother while internally castigating herself for doing so. Myrcella being the youngest and most innocent of the trio, at least in this manner, was blushing so red she looked like a ripe tomato.
Behind them, even Cersei was effected. Despite her love for her brother, she could see that Ranma was a magnificent specimen of man. Perhaps I should step up my seduction plans even further than I had previously wished to. she thought to herself, it might even be amusing if he can actually use that magnificent body for more than combat.
However, right now, Cersei was more than a little irritated at Jayne dragging her young, impressionable daughter out for this. She reached around them, one hand cupping her daughter's mouth. The other two turned at the sound of Myrcella's muffled squeak. "I think," she said icily, "that you three should head back now, don't you? It is unseemly for young ladies to be spying on a boy like this. I am certain the septa would be more than happy to prepare some sort of punishment for you all."
Thoroughly cowed by her stare, the trio nodded quickly and ran off back to the cabin they had commandeered. The queen took one last glance of Ranma, then shook her head and moved off after them, grateful that the boy had his eyes closed and had not even noticed them, so intent was he on his exercises.
If they had stayed longer, they would have seen Ranma stop his present kata, then jump into the air moving through another one, throwing out kicks and punches faster than most men could even see. Moments later, Fenris appeared out of the woods, attacking his master to signal the beginning of his own training.
OOOOOOO
The party got underway a few hours later with nothing else happening, though Tommen wondered why his sister was so red in the face when Ranma picked him up from the carriage. He soon forgot it when Ranma began another tale from Tomobiki.
As the two trotted forward, neither of them saw Joffrey glaring at them, from the back of the column, for once. The Crown Prince turned to the Hound, saying simply. "Tonight. Gather some of the men, I think it's time that the Stark heir be brought down a peg."
Sandor nodded agreement and moved off to do his patrons bidding, inwardly thankful that Joffrey had agreed that he shouldn't participate, the better to not link the attack back to the Prince. Later th