𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒖𝒕

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑽𝑰𝑰

꧁~~~Benget Stark~~~꧂
꧁~~~298 After Conquest~~~꧂
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꧁The soft strums of a lute call out through the wooded cover of the Kingsroad, a whistle every so often when he had stopped singing. Jon on occasion grows a little annoyed by the singing but usually finds it amusing, finding the songs of his brother soothing on the long trek through the Northern wilderness to the mighty Wall, one of the great wonders of the world, far better than the likes of Qarth, in Benget's opinion. Though, he wouldn't know any better about that subject, he's never been to Essos.

"The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun
And her kisses were warmer than spring

But the Dornishman's blade was made from blacksteel,
And it's kiss was a terrible thing!"

"Quite a musical lad, aren't you?"

Lord Tyrion Lannister asks from his horse, glancing at Benget as the Stark-Dayne sits side-saddle with his leg crossed over his knee as he leads his horse along almost effortlessly as he strums the cords to his loots, a carefree smile worn on his face.

"My brother used to sing around Wintertown, see how much he could make in a day."

"And what did he do with it after?"

Tyrion asks as though Ben were not there, to which the oldest Stark doesn't really mind as he stops whistling, still strumming the strings smoothly, acting as though it was second nature to do so as he grins at the Lannister.

"Depends really. Most times I would go around and give what I made to the poor around Wintertown or Winterfell. One time I got terribly drunk.."

Jon and Tyrion laugh at that as Benjen, who rides in the front of the small pack of wolves, a lion and misfits smiles to himself at his nephew's words. The woods surrounding them are darkened, even though it is only a little time past midday. The silence surrounding them all is broken through by the strums of the lute, the musical notes calling out in the air as the tall trees blot put the pale grey sky, cutting the soft breeze short.

It's calm. Almost too calm in Benget's professional opinion as his soft strumming of his lute slowly ends and he puts the straps of said instrument over his head, letting it settle on his back as he shifts his leg back over to the other side, putting his feet into his steed's stirrups.

"Oh, I was enjoying the music."

"Sorry, Lannister. I'm not your own personal bard."

"A shame. You'd make a good one."

Tyrion remarks as Benget glances back up ahead, seeing his Uncle Benjen stop his horse as he turns it around, looking upon the band of misfits and nobles.

"We stop here for the night. It will be dark soon, so let's get some food in our bellies and sleep for our eyes, hit the Kingsroad again in the morning."

"Thank the gods. I was beginning to hate the sight of my horse's head, his ears in particular."

Ben remarks casually as he slides down from his horse, Jon and the others following to do the same. Ben leads his horse to a tree, taking the reins and tying them tightly around a branch as to make sure his horse doesn't wander off without him as he takes off his lute, also tying it down, but to his horse's saddle.

"Jon, you want to go hunting for a bit? It's annoying being stuck about a campsite doing stuff."

"By stuff you mean making a fire, and preparing food? You know, the important stuff?"

Jon asks as Ben takes the bow from the other side of his saddle, snatching the quiver of arrows as he slings it over his shoulder. Ben somewhat mockingly looks around him in confusion before meeting Jon's brown eyes once more.

"So?"

Jon stares at the older twin for a moment before snickering, tying the reins to his horse to the same tree as Ben's horse as he too grabs a bow and arrows.

"While everyone else is washing their breeches, let's go hunt."

Ben recommends with a smile as the two brothers begin to leave but are halted for a moment by the words of the Lannister Imp.

"Do you mind letting me join you on this hunt?"

He asks, looking up at the taller and younger men as Ben groans, rubbing his eyes for a moment.

"The King's hunt with your Lord Father wasn't really much of a hunt. The boar nearly tore into the King after he fell over, completely hungover from the previous night of drinking."

"I'm sure that was a sight to see."

"Not for me, no. My head couldn't reach over the tall grass to see what was going on."

Ben actually chuckles a little at the Lannister's joke as Tyrion smiles, amused with himself. Ben motions him to follow, beginning to set the pace of the trek.

"Just make sure you keep up. I'm not protecting you should we meet any trouble. And if you wander off, don't expect me to come find you."

"Such a relief to hear you care a great deal for me and mine health, Lord Stark."

Benget rolls his eyes slightly as he glances at Jon for a second, who just shrugs as the two wolves and the lion go on their hunt.

꧁~~~Jon Stark~~~꧂

꧁"I have to say, Jon, you've gotten to be a better shot. Certainly better than Lord Tyrion."

Benget remarks as Jon smiles proudly, having nailed the hare right through the head, killing the poor creature in a quick instant. He looks at his older brother, seeing the prideful smile in his almost haunting violet eyes as he nods.

"I've seen better."

Tyrion comments offhandedly, beginning to try to get a rise from the younger twin. And he certainly succeeds on doing so.

"Oh yeah? Who can nail a hare almost between the eyes from this distance?"

Jon questions, his Stark pride getting the better of him as he huffs in annyoance. The Lord Tyrion, the Imp of Casterly Rock merely smiles as he shrugs his shoulders.

"You ever meet the man by name of Jalabhar Xho?"

"Jal...Jalebher?"

"Jalabhar."

Tyrion corrects once more as he smiles, seeing the Stark Twin struggling to put the strange and foreign name together on his tongue.

"Don't feel bad, I struggled saying his name when I had met the man in King's Landing. Very colorful person, I should add. He's an exiled soul from the Summer Isles."

"What did he do to be exiled?"

Benget asks after having retrieved the rabbit which his brother had slain, annoyed with the Lannister enough already.

"Lost some kind of "holy" war, or whatever it is in his culture."

"War in the name of religion.."

Benget laughs slightly, shaking his head with a scoff as Tyrion glances at him with a raised brow.

"Kind of negates the whole purpose of religion, eh?"

Benget remarks as Tyrion shrugs.

"The gods are savage. They sure do love their taste in blood and death."

"You mean your gods."

Jon replies, his words almost as sharp and quick as that tongue of his as Tyrion looks to Jon, amused at the boy's challenging look as Benget stands, watching the two glare at one another with a calm and collected demeanor as usual.

"Your southern gods are savage. How many wars have gone on without any of the one of them stopping it?"

"And how many wars did your Lord Father's trees stand by and watch as the centuries passed?"

Tyrion questions almost mockingly with a raised brow, a smile on his lips as Jon immediately stands, upset that someone would mock the Old Gods, in the North no less. Jon scoffs, looking away from the Lord Lannister as he tries to contain his emotions.

"You speak of gods as though they exist. The gods merely exist when one wishes to seek assurance, or excuses, as you said, to go and war with one another. The difference being that our gods of the South are more cultured, we do not sit out in the wilderness worshiping trees of snow white bark and crimson red leaves."

"And I do not sit in some stone Sept like a munk. If you look around you, you can see my Sept, you can see my gods. The Old Gods of the North created all that's around you, and you shouldn't disrespect it, let alone disrespecting it in it's presence."

"Enough, both of you. Fucks sake, why must you egg him on?"

Benget cuts in, standing between the Wolf and the Lion as he shakes his head.

"If you keep prodding my little brother, Lord Tyrion, I'm going to have some unkind words to share, all right?"

"Of course, Lord Stark. Though, it isn't "Lord" anymore, is it? Taking the Black, you give all of that up. It's honorable, really, giving up a lordship for a brother."

Jon huffs angrily, upset with everything as he turns sharply, storming off alone in the woods.

"Jon.."

Ben calls out in frustration as he watches his little brother walk away for a moment before looking at Tyrion with annyoance.

"From here to the Wall, I think it's best if you do not say much more in my brother's direction, yeah?"

Instead of replying with a remark, Tyrion merely nods, watching as Benget follows after Jon.

꧁~~~Benget Stark~~~꧂

꧁"Jon, hold up for a second!"

He calls out to his little brother, the headstrong twin only stopping after another few paces as Benget catches up behind him. Jon huffs in frustration, pushing along once more before Ben reaches out, grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face him once more.

"Do you mind sharing what that was?"

Benget asks calmly, a look of understanding shown in his nearly glowing violet eyes, knowing that is what Jon needs in that moment: someone who understands. Jon sighs heavily, hands fidgeting together slightly in that annoying habit he had picked up when they were kids. He looks away for a moment, looking out through the wooded area as the sun had begun to set for a short while now, though one could be fooled as grey clouds still hang up above, blocking the beautiful fiery paint of the sky.

"I don't know what that was.."

"You know better than that to give me a shit excuse, Jon. Tell me, Brother, and I will help as best I can."

"That's the problem."

Jon huffs, catching Benget off guard slightly as Jon shrugs out of his grasp. Benget raises his brow ever so slightly up, confused a little as Jon runs his hand through his exact same thick curly hair, huffing with pent up frustration.

"All of my life, I have been the second in every race with you. But instead of being the terrible, gloating older brother as so many of our friends back home had, you were always good. You taught me so much and I feel as though I live in your shadow, and that I cannot escape from it."

His brother's words were something Benget was not exactly ready to hear, as he knows probably better than anyone what it feels to live in the shadow of somebody else. Smiling softly, Ben places a gentle yet firm hand on his brother's shoulder, shaking lightly with a soft smile on his lips.

"Who you are, Jon, is determined by the choices you make in this life. And a man must be a man on his own terms, not living within the shadow of his father."

"Then why wherever you stand, you stand within the sun's shade?"

Jon asks, a glance at Ben's hair, seeing the half-bun tied in the back with several curls going down the length of his neck. His words act as if he and they are looking for some sort of guidance in the wisdom of his older twin. But Benget doesn't have an answer to his question. How is one meant to answer that question? Ben wasn't really ready to give lectures about standing in anyone's shadow, being shaped by somebody else's choices or anything like that. He wanted to save his brother from things such as this. But it seems as though Jon and Benget Stark would not be spared from that fait.

Yet despite that, Benget still finds it within himself to give a little smile to his little brother.

"Nor can an aresling stand within the shadow of his brother older by ten minutes or so. Do you understand?"

Jon, though not fully getting the picture Benget tries to paint, nods nonetheless as Ben smiles, patting Jon's shoulder one last time before separating from him.

"You leave me behind in the woods to fend for myself, Lord Stark?"

Tyrion's words call out from a short distance as Jon groans, rolling his eyes as Benget chuckles.

"Let's kill Tyrion."

"By kill, you mean scare him to death, right, Jon?"

"Obviously."

"What a story that could be!"

Jon shrugged as Benget smiles at his brother's humor.

"Sure. Or just kill him."

Benget rolls his eyes with as Jon flashes a playfully grin, the Lannister Imp coming around a tree as he makes his way towards the two Stark-Daynes. Jon turns away as Tyrion comes to a stop before them, making Benget shrug slightly to the Lannister as he shakes his head.

"What did I tell you about getting lost?"

"That you would follow that stubborn Stark pride and rescue the poor lost soul that was I?"

Benget chuckles slightly before stopping, turning around to the sound of his brother begin to walk off, making Ben groan, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing for a moment.

"Listen, I hate seeing him all pissy, so do you mind stop doing what you are doing so that he can return to normal?"

"Of course. I will do my upmost to ensure I do not bother him, nor you, nor anyone else on our journey to the colorfully splendid Wall and less so poor souls that live upon it."

His last words stick with Ben for a quick moment as the two begin to walk after Jon, hopefully to get back before it gets fully dark out as well. But the Imp's words stick because he's right. It almost surprises Ben to find himself agreeing to a Lannister, the type of person that Benget had grown up to despise for being so power-hungry and greedy and just downright bad people. And he has seen his fair share of bad people in this world.

But Tyrion was right. The Wall was colorfully splendid whilst the men manning it are bleak and soulless. Ben always knew. He always knew the stories from Uncle Benjen were meant to twist their thoughts, manipulate subtly their feelings about joining the ancient order of the Night's Watch. He understands it was a trick in a way, yet he cannot figure the reason as to why that is, why his own father and uncle would do that.

"It doesn't matter now.."

Benget mutters quietly under his breath, answering his own question as Tyrion glances up at the Stark-Dayne but says nothing, seeing how Ben is in deep thought. But Benget shakes from it after a moment, choosing to begin whistling a joyful sort of tune that Tyrion can catch the underline tone of doom within it. It almost has that feel of the Rains of Castamere, he finds himself thinking. A not so bad tune, but with an underlying tone that a certain doom would befall someone or several someone's. A song of secrets of sorts, in a way. Tyrion smiles to himself, liking the challenge of trying to understand something, a song being no different than a book, both of which are ways to tell a story.

Walking a little bit faster, Benget approaches Jon, stopping his faster pace as he evens out by Jon's side, walking alongside him as he does not say a word, still whistling that whistle that he had been working on since the night with the Lioness.

"Would you care to share the song, soon?"

"Of course. It's not a very long one but I feel it gets the job done."

Jon smiles lightly as Tyrion approaches, walking alongside the twins now too as they continue through the path in the woods.

"How is it that you know where we are going?"

The Lord Tyrion asks, curious as to know as he himself is no tracker. He doesn't understand how one could possibly know in which direction they are going simply by looking at the ground. Ben shrugs while continuing to walk, stepping over branches and stones alike, somehow walking at a quieter pace yet equal speed as both Jon and Tyrion themselves.

"It's simple, Lord Tyrion. Just follow the path ahead of you."

Jon glances at Benget, seeing the smile that remembers their time in the Wolfswood when Robb had chased after that hare. The white hare that led Benget to a path he wouldn't have thought he would take. A least not that early in his life. But Tyrion Lannister cannot see the look that the sad smile of Benget Stark is trying to say, his eyes conveying the same message of past memories of pain. Already, both Starks miss home. They miss the time where they had not gone into the Wolfswood.

Seeing the now quiet faces of the two Starks, Tyrion can roughly understand that something about what Ben had said is something dug up from their past. Something that should remain buried. Tyrion doesn't say another word. But he stops also when Benget and Jon come to a quick stop in the metaphorical path as the Imp's eyes turn back ahead, widening slightly when they meet the eyes of men ahead of them.

"Well..shit..."

Ben mutters as if he is not worried at all by the seven hooded figures, sounding as though he is more annoyed than anything. Jon's hand moves to his side, itching for his sword as he can see the seven men holding weapons of their own, one of which with a bow raised and pointed to kill. But Benget does not itch for his blade.

"Excuse me, you fine looking hooded individuals, but can you move out of the way? Our ma needs us back in time for supper and I don't feel like facing her wrath."

"A very funny man you seem to be. You do not have a mother, Benget Stark."

Ben loses his confident smile at the fact that their leader of sorts seems to know who he is. Ben raises his hands, taking a step forward as Jon looks between the group and him with worry.

"You're not seriously thinking about surrendering?"

"Pfft, of course not."

Ben shakes his head, sending a wink to his brother as he turns back to the interlopers standing in their path.

"Now, again, I ask that you and your fine companions step aside or there may be some discrepancies between us."

"We were told that we would be paid a pretty penny for your life. Your head will be worth its weight in silver."

"Well, depending on which head you mean, you'll get more from one than the other. Lady Stark always said that I had a tiny skull with a tiny brain, so I figure you should take the other head as it's worth it's weight in gold."

He jokes with a grin, making the hooded figure groan internally as the men take a step forward simultaneously. Ben loses his smile for a moment, getting ready to move as his right hand is set towards his dagger on his new sword belt.

"I've heard just about enough out of-"

"I'll cut you a deal. You give me that nice sword you got there, you drop your other weapons and give us safe passage through here. I'll let you live."

Benget knows that these men were paid to kill him specifically. But as to who might want him dead, well, there are sure to be disgruntled husbands out there in the rest of Westeros that don't like the fact that he's slept with their wives but that is beside the point. Someone is going to pay these men money for his life, his brother's life and maybe even Lord Tyrion's life. And they crossed the line if they want his brother dead.

"I will do no such thing."

"Are you sure?"

Benget warns one last time, seeing the men take another step as the man with the bow draws back a little bit further, ready to shoot. Benget looks to the ground for a second, chuckling slightly as he sighs and shakes his head.

"Good, because I prefer it this way-"

And before the man beside the leader can react, Benget snatches his dagger at his side, using it as if it were a throwing knife as he whips it at the man, the castle forged steel sharpened straight embeds itself in the man's throat, killing him within an instant.

"Look out!"

Benget launches himself at Jon, hardly really caring for the safety of the Lannister beside him as he knocks Jon out of the way of the incoming arrow set loose by the archer. Jon pants in shock, eyes widen as Benget pats his shoulder quickly.

"Stay down."

"But you taught me how to fight! Let me help you-"

"I taught you how to fight, yes, but I don't want you killing."

"But-"

"Keep your head down!"

Benget yells as he pushes himself up, dashing out of the cover of the trees as he runs towards the assassins, the now six running towards him with deadly intent. Ben draws Dawn from his waist, twisting out of the way of a knife as he slashes a man across the chest, spilling his guts. Five. They circle around him as Jon watches from beside the tree, looking to help but his brother's warnings to keep put hold him at bay for the moment. Tyrion also watches in shock, watches as Benget merely looks around him at the five remaining men, twirling Dawn in his right as he bends over, snatching the dagger from the dead man's throat as twirls that in his other hand also.

"So, let's see here...five against one. How is that fair?"

"I'd reckon if you want a fair fight, you include that little boy over there you call brother. What a pussy, not rising to the occasion to figh-"

The man is silenced as the amused posture of Benget Stark shifts to that of almost pure rage, angered by the insults to his flesh and blood as Ben tears into the man who said the words, ripping his throat open with his blades as the other assassins take the opening and try to attack. By twisting out of the way, Ben waits and catches a blade in a quick lock with his dagger before slashing with the Dawn across the man's face, cutting into him and brushing him off as if he were nothing

Ben turns, nearly missing the chance to avoid it as he instantly ducks, the arrow soaring over his face by mere an inch or two as Benget then quickly rolls put of the way, moving to deal with the third man.

Jon watches on, seeing his brother utterly annihilate the men attacking them. He sees the death displayed before him, and it frightens him. But what frightens Jon Stark more is that he is doing nothing to help. He had never killed before. He saw what it could do to someone. It drove his brother away for over a year. But as the man with the slashed face crawls away in pain, Jon watches him crawl towards himself as he somewhat shakingly draws his sword. Jon stares at the helpless man, feeling weak. It's weak and dishonorable to kill a man while he's down like this. But Jon was afraid. He was afraid not to kill.

And so, hesitantly, Jon plunges his sword through the back of the defenseless man, ending his life as Benget turns sharply after disposing of the third man, watching his brother pull his blade from the man's back.

"Hey!"

He shouts, forgetting his surroundings for a few moments as he stomps towards Jon, whose eyes stay focused on the now dead man lying on the dirt.

"That is not your kill! This is not how you wet your sword!"

Bem shouts in anger at his brother, who trembles at his brother's fury as the younger twin stares at the elder in slight fear, seeing the anger in his glowing violet eyes.

"I..I-"

"I told you to stay down!"

"You needed help and-"

"The man was already dead! He was on the ground, no longer a threat to anyone!"

Benget huffs in frustration and anger, but mostly disappointment. And mostly disappointment in himself. The kill was sloppy, left the man crawling. But more than that, he had his own brother draw blood for the first time. He didn't want that. Ben never wanted Jon to share the same fate as him, to see the faces of the men he killed in the dark of the night, hearing their cries every time the wind blew. He wanted to save his little brother from such things.

"Jon.."

Benget trails off for just a second, eyes widening as he realizes he missed to of the seven men. Eyes widening, he drops Dawn, quickly putting his hand on Jon's shoulder and pushing him down as a knife barely misses Jon, the hand holding the blade then being caught in Benget's hand as the leader tried to end his brother's life. Hearing a branch snap behind him, Benget quickly disarms the leader, twisting the man around him as the archer let's loose an arrow, the leader acting as a shield as he takes said arrow in the shoulder. Deciding that it is to end then and there, Benget turns around to the stunned and pained leader, reaching for the man's belt and snatches the hilt of his sword, pulling it out and shoving the man to the ground. The archer holds up his last arrow, ready to fire.

But he never was able to loosen it as the Violet Wolf spins with such speed and strength that the fine blade of the leader cuts the archer's head from his shoulders, both tumbling to the ground as Benget looks over the slaughter he had just created.

Looking back at Jon for a second, he sighs heavily before turning back to the de-hooded leader as he sits up onto his knees.

"Ah! My-my Lord, have mercy. Please!"

The would-be assassin shakes in fear as Benget points the man's own sword at his heart.

"You will go back to your masters and tell he, or she, or they, or them or whoever really cares to listen that it will take more than a handful of men with knives to put down the Violet Wolf."

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꧁~~~Cersei Lannister~~~꧂

꧁"WHAT!?"

The Lioness of Lannister roars furiously, voice booming like thunder across the room of the Inn at the Crossroads.

"You mean to tell me that simple boy was able to kill six armed men and you could not even knick the bastard!?"

"Y-Your Grace, the boy fought like a devil..h-he-"

"I didn't ask for excuses, I asked for results!"

Cersei paces back and forth across her quarters, looking as though she is insane, like the Targaryen Madness had laid its lethal hand upon her shoulder. Jaime sits against the table across the room, a brooding look upon his face, his dangerous green eyes narrowed towards the paid assassin as the man continues to try and make excuses for himself and for his dead comrades.

"How is it that one boy, a fucking boy could best seven? How!? It's not possible!"

"Your Grace, I-I don't k-know-"

"Oh, shut up, you sniveling fool!"

Cersei groans with anger, stopping with her pacing as she rubs her eyes. She shakes her head in anger.

"You stand there with an arrow in your shoulder and you tell me you did not kill whom I asked you to kill?"

Cersei asks as if killing is such a simple thing, an easy subject to get into. Killing can be as easy as breathing, yes. It can be as simple as writing on a paper with a quill and ink, but by doing that, you are not really killing someone. Killing is up close and personal, where the blood truly stains your hands. The assassin scowls at Cersei, turning away from Her Grace as he spits.

"I tell you only what happened. The Stark boy fought with the ferocity of ten men."

Cersei just scoffs, turning away from the man entirely as her angery eyes set on Jaime, nodding to her twin and lover as Jaime hesitates just for a second before smoothly drawing his sword.

"Y-Your Grace, I did as you asked-"

"And yet I do not see either head of Benget Stark. Jaime."

Cersei doesn't bother turning to the sounding of the man whelping before the sound of a head rolls onto the floor. She would have to pay someone to clean up the mess, yes, but also to pay for their silence. Cersei seethes quietly as she hears the sound of a sword sheathing in its scabbard and footsteps approach her.

"How could you be so stupid?"

Cersei mutters, leaving Jaime confused as he wonders if she meant the words to be directed at him or at herself. Cersei whips around, now only able to take her fury out on the only other person left in the room.

"Calm down.."

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down! Benget Stark still lives and breathes!"

"It is not my fault for that fact. If you hadn't wandered to his chambers and tried to fuck the boy, we wouldn't be in this situation now, would we?"

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A harsh smack rings across the room as Jaime feels his cheek sting. Scoffing, Jaime simply turns away from his Lioness sister, hating every inch of her and loving her at the same time. He was right and she hated him for it. Cersei knows that their problems stem much deeper than her simply trying to sleep with the Stark, no. But the main problem, is that afterward, after Benget Stark had left her hot and bothered, Cersei had to get her brother, had to have him hold her in his arms, to feel him inside of her.

The problem with that being, a different Stark caught them.

"You try and act all noble, Cers, but admit it; you are a power-hungry, conniving and ruthless bitc-"

"Shut up!"

She roars once more, furious and hateful to the end as Cersei hates it. She hates the truth. And she hates the fact that she cannot make the truth what she wants it to be. Seeing that Cersei is practically broken, Jaime, though he can almost hate himself for it, trues trues embrace her to try and comfort his lover. But Cersei rips herself from his grasp, beginning to pace once more.

"The boy. The Stark boy whom you pushed from the window, have we heard a report back from the Catspaw?"

"No, I haven't heard anything back."

Cersei turns towards the window, looking out into the night sky as she folds her hands together, calculating and planning.

"Then there is a chance for this all to go away."

Jaime almost gulps, seeing the green of her eyes ignite as if they were Wildfire. He sees madness within her love and fury and Jaime knew then and there that Cersei Lannister just might be the end of him.

"There will be a lot more bodies to clean up than that pathetic excuse on the floor there after everything is said and done."

꧁~~~Robb Stark~~~꧂
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꧁"I do not care about appointments!"

His mother roars, uncharacteristically for a Tully fish. But perhaps she has been in the North long enough to truly change into a raging Stark wolf.

"I'll see to the appointments, Maester Luwin."

Robb speaks softly, trying to emulate that voice that his father always used whem trying to de-escalate any situation. Robb often found that Ben had that same tone, too. Quite often in fact, really. Neither of them roared like Catelyn often did, and when it did happen, it was a frightening thing to see. It's a frightening thing to see a quiet wolf finally snap.

"We can take care of them in the morning. Right now, I believe it's best we get some rest."

"Wise words, Lord Stark. I shall arrange for the appointments to be made tomorrow."

Maester Luwin glances at Robb's mother, who has yet to move from her seat beside Brandon as he still lays unmoving in bed. With a final nod, Maester Luwin leaves, leaving the son with his brother and mother, waiting for something to happen.

He moves across the room, moving to the window and opens the stained wood shutters, the darkness showing brightly as the sound of direwolves crying out in the night rings out, sending a shiver of uneasiness inside the young Lord of Winterfell.

"When was the last time you left this room, Mother?"

Robb asks without looking to Catelyn, frustrated with how his mother has not attended her duties, choosing to stay with his little brother.

"I have to take care of Bran."

"And what of your duties in Winterfell as it's sitting Lady? Mother, Ben is gone. Father, Jon, Sansa, and Arya are all gone and I can't do everything by myself!"

Robb admits, feeling rather overwhelmed. The lordship over Winterfell and the entire North was something he was not yet ready for. Controlling the North is something that is no small feat. He can't do it and he knows it. Seven Hells, the honorable Ned Stark couldn't control all parts of it.

Ben could've, Robb thinks to himself for a moment. Ben would have been a great Lord of Winterfell, possibly being greater than that of the Kings of Winter of old. But he left. He left for the cold, miserable life of that of the men of the Night's Watch. Robb has a feeling deep down that Benget was never going to be the Lord of Winterfell considering he never liked handling any affairs such as ruling. He loved the people, but he didn't like the power.

The power can overwhelm sometimes. And Robb feels overwhelmed.

"I was never ready for what has been handed to me."

"Sometimes in life, we must make due with what we are handed by the gods."

"If that is so, then make due with the fact that Bran might not wake up anytime soon."

Robb immediately bites his tongue but his harsh words slipped out before he could stop himself. Lady Catelyn stops with her stitching, a blank stare in her eyes as her gaze shifts up to her eldest son.

Her lips scrunch together tightly, teary eyes as her hands shake more and more as she stares at her son, angry with his hurtful yet very honest words.

"He is going to wake up."

"That I am sure of. Our little climber here is going to pull through this, I know. Maester Luwin said he's made it through the most dangerous time."

"What if he's wrong? Bran needs me!"

"Rickon needs you!"

Robb nearly shouts back as the growing frustration between mother and son nearly reaches its peak. With the direwolves calling out in the night, Catelyn finally snaps.

"Close the windows, I cannot stand it! Make them stop!"

Robb relents, sighing heavily as he turns back to the windows. But as he does, a bright light out in a short distance inside of Winterfell comes to view. A bright light of sparking flames.

"Fire.."

His eyes widen as the bells ring out with the direwolves and hounds, people joining in the fray of noise as Robb quickly spins on his heels with a look of panic.

"Fire! Mother, stay here with Bran!"

"What's going-"

"Stay here!"

Robb quickly rushes out of the room, beginning to sprint as fast as he can down the hall, accidently bumping into someone but he brushes past them without an apology as he continues rushing forward.

Dashing out into the courtyard, Robb finds that the building across the courtyard, the guest house is partially on fire. But even so, the flames spread quickly and he can hear screams of panic coming from inside.

"My Lord!"

"Ser Rodrik, how in Seven Hells did this happen!?"

"It matters not right now! What matters is that there are people trapped in there and they'll be cooked alive if we don't get them out!"

Robb looks around quickly at the men rushing in to help, Theon being one of them as his pants are barely on, his tunic thrown on in a haste and in any other moment, Robb would be laughed at the Greyjoy for being caught with his pants down. But it isn't the time. It's time for him to step into that role of responsibility, that role in which he needs to lead without fear.

"Come on..come on... Right, fetch buckets and barrels! Get this fire down!"

"Yes, Lord!"

Ser Rodrik, Theon and many others begin to fetch water. And without much thought, Robb dashes forward into the burning building, smashing through the door as immediately flames and smoke greets him with a warm embrace that is everything but loving.

Coughing, Robb covers his mouth and nose with his arm, the other hand outstretched in front of him as he squints, feeling the heat get to him as sweat rolls down his brow and neck.

"Where are you!? We need to get out before it collapses down on top of us all!"

"H-Here!"

Someone coughs and wheeze, choking on the thick smoke in the burning air as Robb pushes forward through the immense heat, grunting and growling as he finds himself getting burns here and there along his hands, heat soaking into his skin as he continues pushing forward.

"Wh--Where are you!?"

He coughs, sucking harshly for air as he begins ti stumble around. Robb's vision starts to get a little blurry but he still goes on.

"H-Help..help m-me..!"

Robb finally smashes into one of the bedchambers of the guest house, seeing a small girl cuddled up in a bundle on the floor as her arms are covering her face and head, her body shaking as he quickly bends down, taking her in his arms.

"Come on! We have to get the hell out of here!"

꧁~~~~~~꧂

A light ash and smoke covers his face, stuck in his mess of brown curls as he pants slightly. The fire had seemingly come from nowhere. And as Robb and several others look around for clues as to what exactly happened, nothing seems to turn up to uncover the mystery of the fire that was started almost in the dead of night.

A great way to start my lordship, he thinks to himself, wishing that Benget was there to save him as usual from these kinds of things. Ben always had a guiding hand in things, always some sort of word or sentence of advice for any given situation.

The direwolves have since stopped howling. The flames had roared for a short time, and in that time, Grey Wind, Shaggydog and Summer had been up in arms about something that Robb could not wrap his head around. But the thought dissapears for a moment as he begins to set his way back inside the Great Keep.

The halls are a nice cool contrast of the brief yet roaring flames. The girl he had saved he had found in the fire came out unharmed. Minor burns on her hands, the same as him. But along with everyone who fought and defeated the roaring flames straight out of one of the Seven Hells, Robb is nearly covered with ash, feeling as though he is a form of grey wind.

Walking to Brandon's room, his eyes land on the carved engravings of crows, ravens and the weirwood tree in his door. They next land on a guard outside the door and some talk happening inside of the room.

"Is everything all right?"

"Lord Robb, the Lady has been been attacked."

"What!?"

Robb immediately lights up in shock and fear, pushing past the Stark guard and bursting through the door, past the empty eyed crow. The sight greets him with the image of his mother sitting on the floor, tear stained eyes and exhaustion gazes at him as he sees a young woman tend to her hand, which are bleeding still from the attack.

"Mother!"

"Robb!"

Catelyn calls with a tired, shrill voice, pushing past the woman helping her as Robb leans down and embraces her tightly, feeling her sob into his shoulder.

"Mother..what happened?"

"I-I don't know. A man came right after you left to deal with the fire..he was coming to kill my boy!"

Robb leans away, though still holding his mother by her shoulders as he looks at the corpse, seeing Maester Luwin and now Ser Rodrik Cassel examine it and the blade. As his eyes stare at the fine blade that looks Valyrian, the woman helping his mother with her bleeding hands wraps things up, putting together her things as she stands.

"It's the best I can do with what I have on hand. There isn't much in the way of advanced medical supplies here in Westeros."

Robb turns slightly, staring at the younger woman as she wipes off the blood onto a towel over her shoulders, not at all sick from it or frightened by the sickening red liquid as so many other women and girls are when they see it. Watching her stand, she moves to leave but Robb stands up also, stopping her hesitantly.

"Thank you..uh, oh...for helping my mother."

"She's lucky the blade didn't cut deeper. For Valyrian Steel, you would figure it would cut to the bone."

The woman just merely shrugs as Robb looks back to Maester Luwin, seeing him help his mother up onto her feet, the direwolf Summer off in the corner licking his bloody paws. And as Robb starts to utter another thank you to the tan-skinned woman until he notices her gone, leaving him behind to think about the way her eyes shined.

꧁~~~Benget Stark~~~꧂
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꧁The sound of his lute calls out in the fading evening air, mixing with the sound of the fire crackling and the sound of pages being turned in Lord Tyrion's book. Benget strums the cords softly as Jon stares into the fire, clutching his hands tightly together as he bounces his knee up and down from where he sits, the comforting musical notes doing very little to actually comfort him.

"I know that what you're going through is difficult, Jon."

Benget mutters, continuing with the sift strokes of the strings to his dark stained lute. Jon's eyes travel to the engravings on his brother's instrument, seeing the wolves chase after the star.

"I know what I did was wrong.."

"It was, in a way."

Benget mutters, taking a glance at Tyrion before looking back to his brother. Ben tilts forward, stopping with the movements on his lute as he reaches, tilting Jon's face toward him and making him look into his eyes that glow with violet.

"Although your...kill, isn't exactly a kill, neither was my first."

He says quietly, gaining the attention of the Lord Tyrion and also Jon as they both now gaze at him. Ben sighs, sitting back against the tree he leans against as he looks off ward into the forest surrounding them, scoffing with a humorless smile, a spiteful one.

"The first time I killed, Jon, was that time in the Wolfswood. You remember that day."

He says, and Jon nods, remembering it clearly as if it had just happened. Those hours spent feeling alone after Ben had given himself up to save and protect Sansa and Robb and himself was the hardest time he had ever gone through. Well, that and when Ben disappeared to travel around down in the South after those events.

"Well, my first ever time killing a man was when he was asleep... I cannot remember the name but I see his face. I see their faces, all the men I've killed in this life. Sometimes, I can see them staring back at me across from the river Trident in the next.."

He trails off for a moment, unconsciously stroking the strings to the lute, the quiet and sad tune playing out as Jon listens to his older twin, looking for the advice Ben always seems so willing and ready to give.

"You remember how Father had said the first man he ever killed was at the Battle of the Bells, right on the stairs up to the Sept. Father took no glory in that. You saw how quiet he was. The same is said for Ser Barristan, whom you saw was quiet after he spoke of that Tyroshi he slew during the War of the Nine Penny Kings. The point I'm trying to make, Jon, is that no matter what, a man's first kill is going to be hard."

"I had known that killing would never be easy...that it would sit on my shoulders and in my stomach like a crushing weight, but...there was no honor."

❄❄❄

❄❄❄

Ben sighs, shaking his head a little as the conversation turns to how he remembered it being with his father and him.

"More often than not, there is no honor in killing a man, Jon... But you survived. Never sell yourself short and never, ever be sorry for surviving, even though sometimes, being the one to survive is harder than being the one that is killed."

His words are dark in a way. Dark and show the grim reality of what exactly the world that they both live in is like. But they comfort Jon immensely. Reflecting for a moment, Jon. Knows that his brother is right. And when was he ever wrong?

Seeing Jon begin to smile, accepting his words, Benget leans back against the tree, feeling pride in himself that he could at least try to emulate what their father would say in such a situation, since such a situation has happened before.

Benget goes back to softly strumming the cords of his lute, humming the tempo to his own song he had made as Jon's eyes wander across the campfire and across the the camp as his Uncle Benjen leads two men that are bound with rope, ushering them to sit. Jon grimaces slightly as one of the prisoners looks across and over at him, making Jon turn away and look back into the flames.

"Rapers."

Tyrion suddenly says, catching Jon's attention as Benget just continues to play the lute quietly. Tyrion doesn't look up from his book as a way to annoy Jon Stark, to mess with him a little as Tyrion knows that the Stark will be disappointed in what the Wall really is.

"At Casterly Rock, rapers and the like aren't usually given a choice. Those poor souls however probably were given a choice, one of three: castration, the Wall, or beheading. As your dear brother had just adequately put it, sometimes, it's easier being dead. Many would choose that or castration over being sent to the Wall in black."

Tyrion says, making Jon shift around a little in his spot, his eyes glancing back to the tied up men as Jon sighs. Those men, should they or even himself pass the initiate stage, those men would be his Brothers in the the Night's Watch.

"But the ones that do choose the Wall? Well, it's a funny thing, really. Joining the ancient order of the Watch, you discard your old family and get a whole new one."

"I will have family on the Wall. My old and only family."

Jon mutters as Benget glances up from his lute, watching the Lion and the Wolf interact with one another as Jon leans forward.

"I will have my Uncle Benjen, I will have my brother, Ben-"

"Benjen, of whom, is a ranger. You are not."

Jon scoffs, glancing at Ben for another piece of advice or anything but Ben shakes his head, not wanting to get into that conversation just yet, also in a way to protect Jon's innocence.

"Why do you read so much?"

Jon suddenly asks, turning back to Tyrion with a questioning look. But Tyrion hardly glances up from his book, chuckling slightly as he turns another page once more.

"Look at me, Jon Stark, and tell me what you see. Go on."

Tyrion says as Jon pauses for a long moment, looking to see if what the Imp was saying was a trick in any way. Side eyeing Benget, whom side eyes him right back, Tyrion smirks, looking back to Jon.

"What you see before you reading a little book is a little man, a dwarf, should you prefer to call me, as many infact do. And for a man of my stature, it is hard for many to look up to me as if I am worth something, as many dwarves feel. A man, like my brother-"

"The Kingslayer."

Tyrion's smirk shortens a little, not liking when someone calls his brother something like that. The thing is, they will call him the Lion of Lannister to his face, but whisper Kingslayer behind his brother's back. But nonetheless, Tyrion nods.

"Yes, the Kingslayer. My brother is a man many could look up to, literally and figuratively. He can wield a sword for better than any other man in the Realm-"

"Benget bested him with ease."

Tyrion's smirk shortens once more, barely being able to be called a smirk or a smile as Tyrion nods, huffing a little bit after Jon's interruption.

"He can wield a sword far better than I or any other dwarf can. But the magical thing is, I can read. I can not only read, but I can learn. Something in which my brother sometimes struggles with."

Tyrion mutters, his words sitting with Benget as the older Stark twin can find the wisdom within his words where as Jon doesn't fully understand what the Imp is saying.

"My point being, I have my mind where as my brother has his sword. But a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone. So you see, Jon Stark, I read to sharpen my mind. Your brother is smart enough to be good with both a sword and a mind."

Though he doesn't accept the compliment with words, Ben takes it with a respectful nod of his head as Tyrion nods back. Jon sighs for a moment, before shaking his head.

"And what about you?"

"What?"

"What's your story, boy?"

"When you ask my more kindly, perhaps I will tell you."

"A boy, the second born, with little to inherit but more than most, off to join the ancient and prestigious order of the Night's Watch alongside is valiant brother and colorful brothers-in-arms."

"The Night's Watch protects the Realm from-"

Jon could not even finish his words as Tyrion chuckles, shutting his book as he shakes his head at Jon.

"Yes yes, against grumpkins and snarks and all the other monsters your wet nurse warned you about. You're a smart boy, Jon Stark. You don't believe in that sort of nonsense."

Jon sits back against his respective tree, leaning back as he knew then the their was really no winning with words against the Lannister Imp sitting before him. As he said himself, there's a reason to why he reads so much.

"Nice pissing match, boys. I was quite impressed."

Benget mutters, catching their attention respectively as Ben grins in amusement at the slight showdown that had happened between the Wolf and the Lion. Though Jon made good points and so did Tyrion, one could say both were right and both were wrong.

"Thank you, Lord Stark."

"Yup."

He simply answers before focusing back on his lute. The sound of the musical notes playing in the air, the sound of the insects and the crackling of the fire play hand in hand with the sound of the night life. But soon, the hums of Benget Stark form into words he sings softly at first.

"Oh, dead..oh, dead..oh, dead... Oh dead, oh, dead she would be
If the boar had known his whore,
She'd be dead. Oh very, very dead."

His words turn sharp, amusement in his voice as if the song had been about something from recent memory. Something Jon and Tyrion try to pick up on in the hints dropped with each strum of the cords.

"She had been weak at the knees, that wicked Lioness
Tried putting me to her test.

But there I leaped up to my feet with a shout,
"I detest, Your Grace!"
Oh, you should have seen her face.

Oh, she's dead. Oh, dead. Oh very, very dead,
If the boar had known, it'd be off with her head,
The Red Queen would be dead."

Benget goes on with his lute, striking the cords quickly before finishing off his song with a grin, leaning back as the look of Tyrion's face did not disappoint him. Benget glances at Jon, almost grinning at the naive look upon his brother's face as Tyrion just chuckles.

"You see, Jon Stark? It appears the stories about your brother are true. He's good with more than just swords and books it seems."

꧁~~~~~~꧂

As their uncle leads the marry band of men of the Night's Watch to be, Benget cannot help but feel a certain dread. But he watches as Frost leads ahead of Uncle Benjen alongside Ghost, who follows his brother in a somewhat obedient fashion as they ride up over the next hill of the Kingsroad. And whag he sees on the other side snatches the air from his lungs as his eyes widen.

"I did tell you that it would be quite a sight. Welcome to the Wall."

Benjen states as both Jon and Ben stare at the fate that lies ahead of them in both amazement and in fear.

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꧁~~~A/N~~~꧂

Hi everybody! So if you haven't yet noticed, it's been well over a month since I've updated this story and I am terribly sorry that. Things have been happening in my life that I wasn't expecting so I had to take a break from things. But hopefully, this chapter can make up a little bit for that extended absence. Big thanks to TheGrimmReader_ for helping so much with this chapter and this story as a whole! Check him out!

(9168 words!!! Holy shi-)

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this story!