Game Of Thrones... With A Twist

A Game of Thrones - Chapter 4

A fire. A fire raging about Winterfell and burning her library. Just perfect. "Fire." Robb's statement caused Catelyn to look at her eldest son with worry. 

The young Stark lad then spoke, "You stay here. I'll come back." And with that, he was gone, off to do his duties as Lord of Winterfell and save the library of Winterfell from burning to the ground.

Catelyn got up from her seat, leaving her small prayer idol of the Seven that she'd made on Bran's bed as she looked out the window, seeing the flames rage from the stone parapets of Winterfell.

When she turned around though, she was met with a hooded figure that hadn't been there previously.

"You're not supposed to be here. No one's supposed to be here." The man said, his face gnarled as he turned his eyes on the still comatose Brandon, causing fear to run in Catelyn's veins as she glanced at her sleeping son's face. 

"It's a mercy. He's dead already." The man said as he drew a dagger with a smoke grey blade, Valyrian steel, something any old fool with some education could recognize.

With an ominous step, he moved to finish what he came for. Something Catelyn would definitely not allow.

"No!" She yelled as she moved forward, intercepting him but too weak to beat him. He slapped her face and sent her down to the bed, intent on killing her as well if need be for his pay. 

Grabbing the Lady of Winterfell, the man tried to slit her throat, but Cat fought hard, gripping the dangerously sharp blade with her hands. Her fingers bled because of the blade's edge, but it did save her throat from being severed.

It was a struggle between the two, but at long last, the man pulled his dagger away, slicing Catelyn's fingers before he pushed the daughter of Hoster Tully to the ground, successfully getting her out of the way even with his pants of exertion.

With a demented grin of determination on his face, he turned towards the sleeping Bran, whilst Catelyn lay helpless on the floor, her lower lip split and bleeding from the struggle that she had been in just moments before. 

But before anything could happen though, Bran's as-of-yet unnamed direwolf pounced on the man, snarling as it went for his throat, intent on killing the man who dared attempt to murder his master.

Savagely, the direwolf ripped onto the man's throat despite his dying screams, and amidst the sudden geyser of blood, the young direwolf left the body and went onto his master's bed, lying near his hands as if following Brandon's will even though the lad was still unconscious and unresponsive.

Catelyn herself watched the canine warily, yet thankful for the protection... before she turned her attention back to the cooling and bleeding corpse on the floor, her fingers still bleeding from her prevention of the Valyrian Steel from opening up her throat.

His lifeblood spilled from the bite upon his neck as the Lady of Winterfell turned her eyes back towards the bed, more specifically the direwolf lying near it. It seemed that these wolves would protect her children after all.

<The next morning, Khal Drogo's Tent, Khal Drogo's Khalasar, Essos...>

Daenerys' handmaidens cleaned her wounds sustained from the forceful taking of her body by her husband the horrible night before, the young Targaryen princess quiet after the particularly grueling session that she had with her husband... and the feeling of euphoric madness that had entered her mind for a short time whilst she watched the fire surrounding her dragon eggs.

Eggs that she was still looking at somewhat obsessively. "Have you ever seen a dragon?" She asked one of her handmaidens. 

"Dragon gone Khaleesi." The young maid, Irri was her name, and that was her answer.