Chapter Text
“Well, hello there, little friend. What are you doing here again? I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you.”
The cat slipped into the room through the narrow window with a meow and sat in front of the king. It was a scrawny little thing, the white patch on its chest the only mark on its otherwise orange coat. It had been coming to his chamber (to his prison) every day for the last week, somehow climbing across the ledges of the walls until it reached his window.
The king smiled down at the creature and showed it the empty bowl sitting on the table.
“I already ate, see? You should’ve come sooner.”
The cat licked its chops and meowed again, its big, yellow eyes looking at him like he was trying to tell him something important.
“I did you a favor, my friend. That thing barely deserved to be called food.” The king sighed. “I think, I least. It’s been so long I may have forgotten what a good meal tastes like, anyway. Probably it’s why I’m talking to you like you can understand me, too; if at least the guards gave me a bit of conversat— whoa!”
The king yelp, startled, when the cat jumped into his lap. He took his hands up, not knowing what to do while the scrawny little beast walked in circles over him until it settled into a tight curl and began purring.
“Oookay”, the king whispered.
This was new. In the week since it had been paying him daily visits, not once had the cat allowed him to touch it. Slowly, the king lowered a hand and tentatively patted the top of its head. The cat purred louder and butted its forehead into his open palm, asking for more pets. The king chuckled and scratched it under the chin, bringing the other hand to caress the animal down its back.
“What a demanding little fellow are you, hm? I’m sure you believe yourself to be the ruler of this keep.”
The place could hardly be called a keep, given what the king could see through his small window and what he remembered seeing when he was brought here: just a small stone roundtower with a few wooden buildings attached to it, all of them protected by a curtain wall that had seen better days.
“I was the ruler of my own kingdom once too, did you know that?” He asked the cat as he kept petting its soft coat. “I was crowned not too far from here, I believe, if we are where I think we are; my lands expanded all from Pinkmaiden and Stoney Sept, in the southern border of the Riverlands, to the Wall in the North; King of the Trident and King in the North, they called me.”
He sighed, saddened by the memories of times past.
“Not that it did anyone any good, anyway. The only thing I managed to do was to get everyone I loved killed.”
Suddenly, the cat starting squirming in his lap and meowing in anger, as if the touch it had been enjoying so much until then made it uncomfortable out of the blue. The king shushed, trying to calm the animal down, but it in the end the little beast bit his hand and took advantage of him taking his injured palm away to escape, digging its claws everywhere it could in the way.
“Ah!” the king complained, sucking on the wound the cat’s claws and fangs had left behind. “What the hell…?”
He got up and walked to the narrow window, trying to see where the cat had gone, but stopped dead in his tracks midway.
Someone was trying to unlock the door.
He turned, surprised. The door of the chamber that had been his cell for the last year only opened three times a day: when they brought him breakfast, lunch and dinner, and an extra time once a week when a maid was allowed to prepare a bath for him. This was none of these times, and besides, the guards never took this long to unlock the door.
What the hell was going on?
The king looked around and took the first thing he could find that could be used as a weapon. The dull fork they had given him to eat wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing, he thought.
After a few seconds of fiddling, the lock finally gave away.
“Yes!” he heard the voice of a young woman as the door started to open. “See, I told you I could— by the gods, I was right!”
The girl stood still in the doorway, looking at the king with eyes wide open and her face contorting in… longing?
“Robb”, she sobbed, bringing her hands up to her mouth. “It’s really you!”
“Gods be good”, the man next to her gasped, his mouth open in surprise.
The king blinked at both of them, tilting his head in confusion.
Wait…
“…Harwin???”
His lord father’s guard made a small inclination with his head and smiled widely at him.
“As I live and breathe, Your Grace.”
It had been years since anyone called him your grace.
“You’re alive”, the girl exhaled as she took off, and before he knew it, Robb had her in front of him, and then hugging him with so much force that he almost fell back on his ass.
“You’re really alive”, she mumbled into his chest. “I thought you were dead, everyone said you were dead, but you’re alive, you’re alive…”
Was she crying, or laughing?
Robb brought his hands up and stiffened in surprise, overwhelmed by the sudden display of affection of this strange girl.
“Uhhh”, he uttered, uncomfortable. It had been a long time, years, since no one embraced him like this.
There were tears running down the girl’s cheek by the time she took a step back from him, but she was smiling.
Weird, weird, weird. All of this encounter was turning out to be rather weird.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but… do we know each other?”
The smile froze on the girl’s face and the joy in her eyes instantly transformed into something else, something more akin to sadness and… was that pain?
“You don’t know who I am?” she asked, and a part of Robb’s heart pinched inexplicably at the hurt evident in her voice.
“I… I’m sorry, ma’am, but…”
The thing was, there was something about the girl that did feel familiar to him. He looked her up and down, trying to pinpoint exactly how he knew her. It must have been several years ago, for he’d been held captive for almost seven years now and he was sure he had not seen her among the few maids that were allowed into his room from time to time.
He frowned.
There was something about the shape of her face, the slope of her nose and the grey of her eyes that…
The girl opened her mouth to speak but was cut short by the sounds of a ruckus out in the yard.
Harwin crossed the room to peek peeked outside the window and started cursing.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! They know we’re here.” He turned towards Robb and the girl. “We’re here to rescue you in behalf of the Brotherhood without banners, Lord Robb. We’re going to take you out of here, but we must leave right now.”
Seeing that she was still motionless in the middle of the chamber looking at Robb with a face of desolation, he took the girl’s arm and made her look at him.
“There’s no time for this now, Wenda” he said, taking the girl out of her paralysis. “You two can talk about all this later, but now we have to go, okay? Come on!”
Wenda blinked a couple times, shaking her head, and all her demeanor changed in an instant.
“Right”, she said with a resolute tone. “You’re right. Wait a moment.”
Her eyes turned white suddenly, and she stayed still for almost a minute. Robb gasped and moved his hand in front of her face, worried, but Harwin put a hand on his shoulder and reassured him.
“It’s no use, my lord. She cannot see you.”
“What’s happened to her?”
“She’s far away, scouting.”
“Scouting?”
It didn’t take him much more to understand.
“Oh.”
He’d done the same once upon a time, after all.
He hadn’t realized what was going on, in the beginning. He’d thought his dreams were just that, dreams. But then, during the battle in the whispering wood, there had been a moment when a Lannister knight had breached his guard of honor and fought him directly. He was good, better than Robb, and his defense was starting to crumble, death just a few moments away. It was his first real battle and Robb had been truly desperate for the first time in his life when suddenly he’d ceased to be Robb Stark to see the world through Grey Wind’s eyes. He’d ran and jumped over men with long, sharp fangs until he reached his boy and he had ripped the throat of the man trying to pierce him with his pointy stick, and then he was Robb again and Grey Wind was standing over him growling at anyone who dared come near him.
After that, slipping into Grey Wind’s mind had been easier with each time he tried, and the bond between them had grown even stronger than before.
It had been seven years since the Freys had killed his wolf, but he still felt his loss like one would feel the loss of a limb. He still had nightmares of the moment the crossbows had pierced his flesh; of the agony of death he’d experienced before returning to his own mind and finding himself in the middle of the carnage that his uncle's wedding banquet had become.
For a long time, he’d have rather died there, with Grey Wind and all the rest, but he’d found out soon enough how cruel the gods were.
He tried not to think about that, focusing on the girl instead.
So this was how it looked like to slip into the skin of an animal from the outside, he thought. Interesting.
Wenda’s eyes turned back to normal.
“Coast is clear”, she said as if nothing had happened. She took an unremarkable brown cloak from her satchel and threw it at Robb. “Cover yourself with this, we don’t want anyone recognizing you. Let’s go.”
She had a commanding tone, as if she was used to giving orders. There was no trace of the girl that come into the room and immediately turned into a mess of feelings. Robb obeyed, not willing to question the people that were trying to take him out of his prison, and covered his russet hair with the hood of the cloak.
His chamber-cell was on the top of the tower, so they slowly made their way down the floors through narrow hallways and even narrower staircases, stopping from time to time to make sure the path was still safe. The thrill of the escape burned in Robb’s veins making him hyperaware of the surroundings, though he was sure part of that was a byproduct of being confined between the same walls for so long.
They were almost at the bottom of the tower when a bunch of guards appeared out of nowhere at the other side of a corridor just at their left.
“Shit”, “Fuck”, Wenda and Harwin muttered at the same time.
Harwin put himself between Robb and the charging men and made the motion to draw a sword from his side, but there was nothing there.
“Fuck!”, he repeated, this time stronger. “Wenda”, he warned the girl, “I came unarmed, I didn’t have any way to hide a weapon.”
The girl gave him a feral smirk and lifted the skirts of her simple dress, revealing a collection of daggers of different sizes attached to her thighs. She gave one to Harwin and another one to Robb.
“More for me, then.”
She drew two of the largest daggers Robb had ever seen and turned her back to them.
“Get him out of here!” She told Harwin. “I’ll deal with this and be right behind you.”
She positioned herself in the middle of the hallway, cutting off the way for the guards.
“Are you sure?” Harwin asked, already pushing Robb to start running. “He’s not going to like this once he finds out!”
He?
Who is he, Robb wanted to ask, but there was no time for light conversation.
“Aye, I’m fucking sure, Harwin! Get the fuck out of here!”
The first guard reached her just at that moment, and Robb had just the time to see her slit his throat effortlessly before turning a corner and losing sight of her.
“We can’t leave her there!” He shouted at Harwin as they ran. “She’s just a girl!”
Harwin took his arm and yanked him down another set of stairs.
“That slip of a girl is one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen, my lord! She can handle herself, but it will all be for nothing if we don’t get you out of here!”
After what seemed like a lifetime, they finally burst out of a door to find themselves in the roudtower’s small yard. Robb stopped his mad escape, shocked at the view in front of him.
Was that… a mummers’ troupe fighting the guards?
Maybe this was all another dream, he thought. Or maybe he had finally gone mad.
Harwin guided him among the mayhem and the confusion of the skirmish until they reached a man in red robes wielding a flaming sword.
“We’ve got him!”, he yelled as he stabbed one of the guards with the dagger the girl had given him.
The red man stopped and looked at them both, surprise written in his face.
“Really? It was true then! She was right!” He laughed hysterically.
“Aye!” Harwin said. “We have to leave, now!”
“Retreat!” the red man screamed. “Retreat! Everyone out!”
The men Robb had thought were mummers (but clearly weren’t) heeded the red man’s command, steadily making their way to the gate. There were about ten of them, he counted. When they were all out, they pushed a huge, covered wheel cart until it blocked the gate, and the red man threw his flaming sword inside before they all started a mad run into the trees of the nearby forest.
They had almost reached the tree line when an explosion sounded behind their backs, startling Robb.
“What the hell was that?!?!” He asked, turning to see the gate in flames and the nearby sections of the stone wall destroyed.
Harwin shoved his shoulder to keep him going and explained as they ran.
“The cart was filled with tar! It was our getaway plan if the mummer’s farce didn’t work out, which it clearly didn’t!”
The group reached a clearing where there was a group of tied horses and before he could realize, they were flying away at a mad speed.
Robb closed his eyes, trusting his horse to follow the others, and enjoyed the feeling of the wind in his face for the first time in years. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but it was; there was no way his mind was conjuring the smell of the fresh grass and the wet earth filling his nostrils, the powerful feeling of the horse between his legs, the sounds of the wind rustling the tree leaves above his head, the warmth of the occasional ray of sunshine that broke the thickness of the forest canopy. The men that had rescued him all laughed and yelled in excitement around him and he didn’t restrain the need to join them, howling in happiness at the feeling of being free for the first time in almost a decade.
Free, he thought. He was finally free.
It mustn’t had been more than half an hour later when his legs started to give in, too weak after having been a prisoner for so long. He slowed his horse down, afraid he’d fall of headfirst to the ground if he didn’t, and the men around him did the same when they noticed his struggle.
“Are you okay, your grace?” The red man asked him.
“Aye”, he answered, trying to catch his breath. “Just… just tired. I’m too weak after being confined all these years.”
One of the men from the rear of the group spurred his horse until he was next to Robb and the red man. He had a bow and a quiver full of arrows hanging from the side of his saddle.
“It doesn’t look like anyone followed us, Thoros. I think it’s safe to go slower.”
“Do you really think they won’t come after us after taking their most valuable prisoner, Anguy?”
The Anguy man shrugged.
“They’re Freys. Half of them are dimwits and the other half is too busy fighting each other for control after old Walder’s death.”
Some of the men laughed after that, while the man Anguy had called Thoros and some others got together to talk. Robb supposed they were discussing the next course of actions, but honestly, now that the thrill of the escape was running down, he felt too exhausted to pay attention to anything besides trying not to fall from his horse.
“Where is Arya?”
The voice rose above noise everyone else was making, stopping Robb’s heart in the process.
He snapped his head to face the man that had just talked. He was tall and burly, with wide shoulders and muscled arms, and he seemed incredibly uncomfortable atop his horse. He looked around, searching for something or someone he clearly didn’t find, and then glared at Harwin with so much force that even Robb felt the need to recoil a little bit.
“Harwin”, he grunted. “Where is she?”
All the men fell silent. Harwin looked sideways at Robb and squirmed in his saddle.
“She… she stayed behind. A group of guards found us when we were leaving the tower and I didn’t have any weapon, so she stayed behind to give us time to escape.”
The other man’s face blanched under his dark scruff, his blue eyes filling with fury.
“You left her behind!?!? Alone?”
He got off his horse and stalked over to Harwin, who did the same. The man towered a good head over him.
“Tell me you didn’t”, he growled.
Harwin stood his ground. “I had to, Gendry. She can handle herself, and this mission was too important to stay and risk them reaching m’lord Robb again. She said she would be right behind—”
The man Harwin had called Gendry didn’t let him finish the sentence. Instead, he punched him right in the face, the sound of his nose cracking resonating in the sepulchral silence of the forest around them. Harwin fell backwards, blood gushing out of his nose and down his face as Gendry took him by the front of his tunic and lifted him up.
“You promised me”, he roared, “you told me you’d look after her!”
He lowered his tone after that, breathing heavily.
“If something happens to her, I’ll kill you”, he threatened. Robb absolutely believed him.
He let Harwin fall back down to the ground, the poor man only capable of moaning in pain, and made a beeline towards his horse, but another man caught the reins before he could do anything.
“Fuck off, Lem”, he said, brimming with anger.
The man that had taken his horse, one of the oldest of the group, squared his shoulders and stood between Gendry and the horse.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going back for her, that’s what I’m doing. Get the fuck out of my way.”
“No, you’re not”, the red man, Thoros, intervened. He pushed himself between Gendry and Lem. “Harwin is right, son. Arya can handle herself. But if you go back there, you’ll most likely end up dead, and then she’ll kill me when she finds out I let you go, and I don’t want that, alright? It’s one thing that they’re not following us but going back into that keep after the riot we just made is simply suicidal.”
Robb’s heart stuttered again after hearing that name.
Arya.
He thought he might have heard wrong the first time, but now…
“Let me go!”, Gendry demanded, but Thoros and Lem grabbed him by each arm and held him back.
Robb couldn’t care less about any of them.
He got off of his horse, not giving a damn about his shaky legs.
“Arya? The girl who broke me out of my cell… her name is Arya?” He asked, his commanding voice rusty with misuse. He turned to Harwin, who had sat against a tree trying to contain the blood flowing from his broken nose and was looking at him with eyes full of guilt.
That was all the confirmation he needed for the nagging suspicion he’d felt since Gendry uttered the name for the first time.
“No”, he exhaled, all the air leaving his lungs. “That was my sister?”
Harwin sighed and closed his eyes, nodding, and just like that, a frozen hand closed around Robb’s heart.
Gendry stopped trying to push Thoros and Lem out of his way and cursed loudly and more colorfully than Robb had ever heard before. And that was saying much, given that he had once ridden into battle with the Umbers.
“You didn’t recognize her?” he accused Robb. “Fucking fantastic.”
“How was I supposed to?” he defended himself. “The last time I saw her she was a child of ten!” He pointed at Harwin. “And he was calling her Wenda the whole time!”
“She can’t bloody well waltz into an enemy fortress announcing her real name to the world, idiot!” Gendry yelled back.
“Well if I had known who she was, I’d have never left without her!”
“It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think, your grace!?!” Gendry spit, managing to make the title sound like an insult.
“Enough!” Thoros boomed, cutting their argument. “You can’t speak to the King in the North like that, Ser Gendry. Show a little respect.”
Gendry scowled.
“Fuck off”, he mumbled under his breath.
Thoros threw him a warning glare and sighed.
“If anyone can get out of a situation like this unscathed it’s the little lady, and we all know it. So, here’s what we are going to do.” Gendry opened up his mouth to speak, but Thoros didn’t let him. “We are going to wait here until nightfall; If she manages to get out of the keep, she’ll find us. If we have no news of her by that time, then and only then I’ll consider sending someone back for her.”
“I’m going”, Robb intervened, using what his little brother Bran used to call his Robb the Lord voice. “If you go back for her, I want to be in the rescue party.”
Thoros shook his head.
“Your grace, we just got you back, we can’t risk—”
“She’s my sister!” he burst.
The face Arya had made when he asked her if they knew each other, back in his prison when she’d hugged her, haunted his mind. His heart broke remembering the desolation that had invaded her when she realized he didn’t recognize her, self-deprecation filling every part of his body.
“She’s my sister, and I… I won’t abandon her, not again. Not this time.”
There had been a time, almost a decade ago, when he’d not thought his sisters valuable enough to trade them in exchange of the Kingslayer; when he’d thought more important winning a stupid war than getting them back.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.
“I don’t care”, Gendry said. “I don’t care about what any of you say. I’ll go back for her by nightfall if she’s not here”, he pointed at Robb, “and you’re not coming with me. Arya just risked her life to save you, I won’t allow you to make her sacrifice mean nothing.”
Robb straightened his back and took a few steps until he was standing in front of Gendry.
“Are you going to disobey your king?”
The man scoffed and crossed his arms in defiance.
“I’m a knight of the Brotherhood without Banners; I follow no king. Your fancy titles mean shit here.”
Robb raise his brow, unimpressed.
“And yet you risked your life to free me. There must be a reason why you did it.”
Gendry clenched his jaw tightly and for a moment, Robb thought he was going to beat him up too. In the end, he just groaned loudly in frustration and turned around, taking a big war hammer, a small sword and a satchel out of his saddle and stalking away to sit in a stump a few feet away from the group.
“Fucking Starks and their fucking stubbornness!” He exclaimed while he walked.
“Your grace”, Thoros tried to reason with him again, completely ignoring Gendry’s outburst. “You have to realize, it’s not wise to put you into harm’s way ag—”
“It’s settled, Thoros.” He stated. He would not be swayed. “I’m eternally grateful for what you’ve all done for me, but I won’t change my mind about this.”
The red man stared up at the sky that could be seen above the forest trees and sighed heavily.