POV Arthur
If there's one thing I've learned since landing in this world of ice and swords, it's that everything here is unpredictable. First, I die and wake up with Deadpool's abilities. Then, I realize I'm in Game of Thrones. And now I'm traveling with a supply caravan headed for Winterfell. Seriously, if this isn't an RPG game that someone forgot to tell me about, I don't know what is.
Ragnar, my favorite mutant wolf, continues to grow at an alarming rate. Just a few weeks ago, he was a pup, and now he's the size of a regular adult wolf. I glance over at him as we walk and shake my head. "You're going to need a saddle soon, buddy," I say, laughing. The wolf looks at me with those intelligent eyes, as if he understands perfectly.
During the journey, the men of the caravan talked a lot about the Starks of Winterfell. It seems I'm about to meet an interesting family: Rickard, the Lord of Winterfell; Brandon, the hot-headed heir; Eddard, who's off in the Vale; Lyanna, the wild daughter; and Benjen, the curious youngest. "A true cast of main characters," I murmur to myself, already preparing for what's to come.
POV Narrator
The caravan made a stop just a day's ride from Winterfell, in a dense, snow-covered forest. The men began setting up camp, and Arthur, feeling restless, decided to wander off a bit to hunt and train with Ragnar. He moved through the forest, twirling his swords effortlessly and practicing quick movements, talking to himself as he did.
"You know, Ragnar, if you were just an ordinary dog, I'd probably be throwing a stick for you to fetch," Arthur joked, smiling. "But thankfully, you're a giant, smart wolf. I'd much rather have you as a combat partner."
Ragnar responded with a low growl, almost like agreement. Arthur chuckled and continued, feeling more and more at ease in his new body and with his abilities.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of a horse galloping and distant laughter. Hiding behind a tree, he watched the scene unfold: a young girl with brown hair riding alone through the forest. It was Lyanna Stark, easily recognizable by her fearless posture and the confident way she handled her horse.
Behind her, Benjen Stark was running on foot, clearly irritated. "Lyanna! You can't just ride off like that!" he shouted, exasperated.
Lyanna simply smiled and waved goodbye to her brother before disappearing between the trees. Arthur chuckled quietly. "Looks like someone ditched her escort."
Curious, Arthur decided to follow Lyanna's trail. It didn't take long for him to find her dismounted, walking casually through the forest. But then, something caught his attention: three men emerged from the shadows, surrounding her. They were wildlings, ragged and with predatory looks, each armed with a crude weapon—a hatchet, a spear, and a knife.
"What do we have here?" said the man with the hatchet, licking his lips. "A lost lady. I bet she's worth a good ransom."
Lyanna drew a dagger from her waist and positioned herself to fight. "Take one more step, and you'll find out what a 'lady' can do."
Arthur watched the scene for a moment, smiling to himself. He gave a signal to Ragnar, who slinked through the underbrush. "Showtime," he whispered, moving silently forward.
The wildlings didn't notice him until it was too late. Ragnar lunged at the man with the knife, knocking him down with a fierce snarl. The wildling tried to scream, but the wolf had already sunk its teeth into his throat.
The second wildling, wielding the spear, turned to attack Ragnar, but Arthur was quicker. He dodged the strike, blocked the spear with one of his swords, and slit the man's throat in a precise move. "You know, attacking ladies is bad manners," he said casually as the body fell.
The last wildling, clutching the hatchet, backed away, fear evident in his eyes. "Who are you?" he growled.
Arthur just smiled. "I'm the guy you should've left alone." He spun his sword and lunged, striking the man in the chest and knocking him into the snow. Without wasting time, Arthur wiped his blade on the wildling's clothes and sheathed his swords.
POV Lyanna Stark
Lyanna was breathing heavily, surprised, still gripping her dagger. She eyed the blond man and the giant wolf that had just saved her. He didn't look like a wildling, nor a ranger of the Night's Watch. His strange clothes suggested he wasn't from the North.
"Who are you?" she asked, trying to mask her astonishment.
Arthur gave an exaggerated bow, smiling. "Arthur Wayne, at your service. And this here is Ragnar, my travel companion."
Lyanna stared at him, assessing him. "You're not a man of the North, nor a wildling. What are you doing here?"
Arthur shrugged. "I'm a man from distant lands. I was traveling with a caravan from the Wall to Winterfell and happened to come across you in this forest."
Before Lyanna could respond, Benjen Stark came running, out of breath and pale. "Lyanna! Are you all right?"
"I am," she said, still looking at Arthur. "Thanks to this man and his wolf."
Benjen looked at Arthur, still suspicious. "And who are you?"
Arthur kept his smile, but this time answered more seriously. "My name is Arthur Wayne. As I said, I was coming from the Wall with a supply caravan. Seems I was lucky enough to find your sister before those wildlings did something worse."
Benjen nodded, finally relaxing a bit. "You saved us. You must come with us to Winterfell. Our father will want to meet you."
Lyanna agreed. "He's right. You deserve our gratitude, Arthur."
Arthur smiled and nodded. "I'd love some new company on the way to Winterfell."