Screaming horses, clashing steel, the flash of fire and torchlight. The smell of blood, thick and hot, the feel of the rain on his face, or was that blood too? The fall of his sword, again and again, like an extension of his arm, men slaughtered wherever he went. He heard the howls of his brother and sisters, long, haunting and terrifying in the dying light, merging with the low sound of the Northern warhorns. He lifted his own head to the dark sky and howled in reply...

No, that's Crow.

Ren glanced to the direwolf that ran at his side. For a moment it had seemed like he was the one with blood on his claws and teeth, his black fur matted with mud and rain, looking up at the knight on horseback.

This had been happening more often in every battle he fought in, and every night he found himself running with the wolf pack as they hunted, seeing Robb's stare in Grey Wind's eyes, Arya's grin from Nymeria and something of Sansa in Lady's expression. In the back of his mind somewhere, Ren knew that wasn't right, but in truth he wasn't sure that he minded.

A morningstar came spinning out of nowhere and crashed into his thigh, causing pain to bloom there, and he was both the sword arm that hacked downwards in that direction, taking off an arm, and the jaws that launched at the man with a furious snarl. It didn't pay to lose focus in the middle of a battlefield.

Ren threw himself into the fight once more, surrendering his mind to the song of the battle that raced through his veins, his sword as alive in his hands as the horse that was underneath him and the wolf at his side. Grown men screamed at the sight of the direwolf descending on them out of the fray, learning firsthand that all talk of the dread beasts that rode with the Starks to war was true.

The sun was setting, not that it could be seen through the rainclouds; they only saw the battlefield growing darker. They had been pushing west for weeks, now, in an attempt to draw Tywin Lannister out of the Riverlands then hastily retreat, leaving him trapped in his own lands and making King's Landing vulnerable to whoever wished to take it. It was another of Robb's genius strategic moves, yet his cousin had been against informing Riverrun not to stand in the way of the Lannister army at first, as had the Blackfish, worrying that any raven or rider would get intercepted.

It was only after Ren had reminded them that they had left the castle in the hands of Edmure, and told him to hold it, that Robb relented and allowed him to send a rider east. He had sent two, in fact. One to Riverrun, and one to Ren's mother, who by all accounts was now with Stannis and Loreon.

So far, their plan was working brilliantly. Having crushed Stafford Lannister at Oxcross in a brutal victory, they were now attempting to take the Crag, leaving in their wake a series of captured castles - Ashemark being the most prominent - and gold mines. The Crag was weakly garrisoned, though had held out longer than expected, hence the fact they were still fighting even as darkness fell. But the gates had just been broken by the ram, Smalljon Umber and Black Walder Frey had scaled the walls leading a number of men with them, and victory was within sight.

Robb, of course, insisted on being at the head of the army, and was looking to be among the first through the newly broken gate. Ren had agreed with several of the others in Lord Stark's battle guard beforehand that they should attempt to hold him up, just long enough so that he wasn't the first through, to make sure there were no hidden murderholes or arrow slits in the gatehouse. It was all very stirring and powerful having their leader actually lead from the front, but there was no point to that if Robb was to die as a result.

Now, in the heat of the battle, it seemed like Ren was the only one to remember that conversation.

"Norrey!" He yelled, managing to catch Owen's attention as Robb grew closer to the gate. "Hornwood!" Even through the slit in his helm, the furious green-eyed glare seemed to carry well enough, as the men hastened to get in front of his cousin. Robb looked irritated by their getting in the way, following Daryn Hornwood's glance his way.

"Again, Snow?" He shouted angrily, but Ren wasn't listening, eyes flickering to the first few men going through the gates as they screamed, dropping as arrows began to rain down on them. Arrowslits in the tunnel walls. Robb would have been caught in that if he'd been a few seconds quicker.

To his credit, his cousin reacted fast, calling back the men from the gate; there was no danger from the top of the walls, now the Smalljon and his men had taken care of those archers when they went over. They only had to wait for their men inside to dispatch the last few hiding in the gatehouse, and then they were through.

"Would you rather I didn't save you from a crossbolt in the shoulder next time?" Ren asked Robb as they waited.

"You hardly jumped in front of me to take the arrow yourself," His cousin said, though didn't seem particularly annoyed, perhaps agreeing that he'd been too hasty.

They pushed through the gate shortly after, the bodies of many of the defenders visible in the courtyard. Lady Westerling and her four children were dragged out in front of them - her husband, Lord Gawen, was already a prisoner at Riverrun after the Whispering Wood - along with the castellan, her brother Ser Rolph Spicer.

Lady Sybell's eyes were angry as Robb approached, flanked by Ren and the rest of his battle guard, though that turned to fear at the sight of the four direwolves looming behind them, the size of horses. Grey Wind, the largest, took a dislike to Ser Rolph, growling menacingly, and Nymeria followed suit, prowling forward. Lady just sat down near Robb, primly starting to clean the blood from her snout and paws. Ren fought a smile at that. It's as though Sansa's here with us. Crow was silent at his side, watching Lady Sybell herself.

The Westerlings were not openly hostile now they had lost the battle, but there was definite resentment from Lady Sybell and her brother. Despite this, Ser Raynald, the eldest son, was ruefully cheerful after they stopped trying to kill him, his younger brother the same, whilst the two girls were timid and scared. Which was fair enough, but they could have been captured by worse people. Robb was hardly one to let his troops rape and pillage (when he could stop them, at least).

"Don't worry," Ren said to the Westerling girls, amused as they backed away from Nymeria, pale-faced. "They've already eaten today,"

That earned some laughter from the men that heard, and even Robb's lips twitched. The girls themselves glanced at him wide-eyed, not looking any less scared of Ren than they were of Nymeria. He supposed he was as covered in as much blood and gore as the direwolves were.

Given the increasingly late hour, night having fallen now, they did not linger outside, and, after finding a place to dump their belongings and wash the blood from their faces and hands, were soon were celebrating their victory in the great hall of the Crag. Not that there was much great about it. All the money and effort must have gone into maintaining the outer walls of the castle, and inside was a borderline ruin, with crumbling bricks, loose roof tiles, overgrown weeds and threadbare tapestries.

Despite the poor condition of the castle, Lady Sybell and her two daughters wore fine dresses to the feast, the lady herself daring to dress in Lannister red, in what was clearly meant to be a show of defiance, but was just ignored. Both of the Westerling sons were friendly enough, but Lady Sybell kept her daughters close in the corner in which they sat. Ren couldn't help but notice the looks the elder girl, Jeyne, kept shooting at Robb when she thought no one was looking. Shy, but... admiring.

"You noticed too?" The Smalljon sat down on the bench beside him with a grin. "Someone's smitten with our Lord Stark,"

"Do you think she could get young Robb to loosen up a little and finally lay with a woman?" Daryn Hornwood smirked.

"She's pretty," Ren shrugged. "But not pretty enough for that,"

They both laughed.

"Perhaps she'll settle for a Stark bastard, Snow," The Smalljon clapped him on the back. "You've made a name enough for yourself,"

He was well aware what people said about him. Lord Stark's bastard cousin, colder, harder and more ruthless. He'd earned that reputation both in battle and for the part he played with the small raiding parties that harried their enemy's column. He cared little for such talk, aside from the fact it made him stand a little higher in the eyes of the lords, so they no longer glowered whenever he spoke up at a war councils.

"Even if she could look me in the eye," He started. "It wouldn't be worth the trouble. I'll stick with tavern girls, servants and camp followers, and stay away from highborn maidens,"

True to his word, Ren left the feast early with one of the more forward serving wenches, never having the patience to charm a shyer girl into bed. Due to the limited areas of the castle that were actually inhabitable, he was to share a chamber with Owen Norrey, Donnel Locke, Daryn Hornwood and a few others. The room was full of dusty furniture and cobwebs, with bedsheets that smelled of mildew and a cracked windowpane that let a cold draught in, but the fire had been lit and at least there was a bed.

*

Ren was with his cousin when they heard the news of Winterfell's fall. The castle sacked by Ironborn, its people slaughtered, but worst of all, Bran and Rickon murdered by Theon Greyjoy and displayed over the gate. The news was nothing less than a punch in the gut for him; gods knows what it was like for Robb.

"And my mother, Lady Catelyn?" His cousin asked hoarsely, struggling to keep a hold of himself in front of all the people around them. The fool messenger had not asked for a private audience, and they were currently in the middle of the courtyard, having been sparring. No one was paying them much attention, but they'd all find out soon enough.

"Lord Bolton's bastard son Ramsay was able to rescue her from the sacked castle, having seen to the slaughter of the Ironmen," The messenger was clearly glad to deliver some news that wasn't as bad as it could get. "I believe she's being taken to safety at the Dreadfort, to join your cousins,"

"I must write to her," Robb muttered, running a hand through his hair. "No doubt she - I - " He broke off, swallowing.

Ren stepped in. "Go and grieve," He muttered to his cousin. "I'll deal with anything else today,"

Robb looked ready to protest, but then his shoulders slumped, and he nodded once in gratitude. "Thank you,"

Of course, when Ren had said go and grieve, he meant go and find a place that passed for a Godswood, or have a vigorous sparring session, or find a serving girl to fuck and get drunk into oblivion, all of which were his own plans for later in the day. He most definitely did not mean for Robb to go and sleep with Lord Westerling's eldest daughter.

First thing in the morning, just as the sun was rising, Ren had been woken by a serving boy insisting that Lord Robb wished to see him. He had trudged to the chambers his cousin had taken as his own, and was truly dumbfounded by what he heard.

"Tell me you're joking," He stared in disbelief.

It was only Robb's red eyes, dark circles and haggard expression that stopped him from slapping him about the head like his mother had done to him when he misbehaved as a boy.

"I'm sorry, but no," His cousin looked torn, regretful, but still stubbornly insisted. "It's the right thing to do. The honourable thing to do,"

"That may well be," Ren said through gritted teeth. "But it also breaks your vows to the Freys. They can turn a blind eye to one night of madness that never gets spoken of again, but if you marry the girl, you'll lose them and all their men. Not to mention gain a reputation as an oathbreaker,"

"You think I don't know that?" His cousin's eyes darkened in anger, conflicted. "I know this is a bad decision, do you think me a fool? But I have to do what's right. What Father would have done,"

"Your father is dead," Ren said coldly. "He's hardly going to judge you for it," He thought Robb was going to hit him then, but continued regardless. "And even if he was here, I highly doubt he'd recommend breaking a solemn promise you made to an ally, whose men have fought and died at your side. Barely anyone knows of this aside from you and I. The girl's reputation isn't ruined. It's not like you promised her anything,"

He could've slapped Jeyne Westerling too, for taking advantage of his cousin's grief and slipping into his bed, for Robb would not have pushed if she wasn't willing. Not even willing - if she wasn't volunteering. Even if she simply meant to offer comfort in his time of need, and one thing had led to the other, she had still made her own decision and now must suffer the consequences. There was no need to damage their war effort to save her a few blushes.

It took near another hour of persuasion, arguing and cold truths, but slowly he wore Robb down. His cousin was no happier at the end of it, and neither was Ren. Bran and Rickon were still dead, Winterfell was still in ruins and Theon Greyjoy had still betrayed them. Yet he left the chambers finally satisfied that they wouldn't end up with a new Lady Stark - and four thousand less men - by the time the day was out.

Ren was considering visiting each of the Northern lords in turn and asking for their assistance in keeping Robb from marrying Jeyne Westerling, just in case. However, not only would that potentially make some of their faith in the young Lord Stark drop, it would also run the risk of ruining the girl's reputation, which would only make his cousin more likely to marry her.

Instead, he set about writing a letter to the Blackfish, informing him of the situation and asking him to have the Frey girl waiting at Riverrun for when they returned, and sent it off with a rider; they couldn't trust ravens wouldn't be shot down and intercepted. Then he went to see Lady Sybell.

There was something off about that woman. She seemed almost too shocked when Ren told her what her eldest daughter had done, as though she was trying too hard to seem appalled. Then she had too eagerly suggested marriage, to save Jeyne's lost honour.

"No," Ren said flatly, suddenly understanding what she was trying to do. "There will be no wedding. Lady Jeyne has lost no honour as far as everyone except you, Lord Stark and myself are concerned, and it will stay that way. My cousin is already betrothed to a lady of House Frey, and is much like his father in that he would never break a solemn vow,"

"Yet he had no problem taking a young girl's maidenhood," The woman practically snarled at him at this first rebuke; if that didn't show her true colours, her badly hidden disappointment certainly did. "And doesn't have the decency to marry her afterwards?"

"You're sat here trying to pretend you didn't tell your daughter to get close to Lord Stark in his hour of grief, in order to make her the next Lady of Winterfell and bring in some gold and prestige for your impoverished house," He raised an eyebrow. "And you speak to me of decency?"

"How dare you accuse me of such things," Lady Sybell said indignantly, though was hardly the best liar and was getting flustered. "You, who is nothing more than an up-jumped bastard,"

Ren was silent, simply staring at her, which seemed to unnerve the woman enough to keep her talking.

"Do you not wish that the man to put you in your mother had married her first? The fact he didn't likely means he was some lowborn scum who would shame her even further," Another silent stare. Lady Sybell was clearly growing uncomfortable. "Well? Are you a dumb mute?"

"I was simply waiting for you to finish, my lady," Ren got to his feet, moving towards the door. "That'll be all,"

"What about my daughter?" She got to her feet angrily. "You can't just leave!"

"No, perhaps not," He paused, turning back to face her, eyes cold. "I care little for snobbery, my lady, but it seems that is the only language you understand. Regarding your earlier insult, my mother is as highborn as they come. I can trace my Stark ancestors back eight thousand years through each of the Kings of Winter, whether I'm a bastard or not. You have a common spice trader for a grandfather, whilst your grandmother told fortunes in a tent," He sneered. "And now you're the lady of this impoverished wreck of a castle, whereas I have the ear of the Lord of Winterfell,"

Lady Sybell's mouth hung open for a split second, before her face twisted in fury.

"And yet being so highborn didn't stop your mother acting like a common dockside whore and spreading her legs to the first man that came sniffing around. No wonder you're so vile, being born of such filth,"

At that, Ren smiled humourlessly, his eyes darkening. "If you want me to persuade Robb to marry your daughter, you're going about it the wrong way," He spoke mildly, but drew the long dagger that hung at his side, smile fading.

The woman finally realised she'd gone too far, inhaling sharply at the blade and watching him with wide eyes as he walked towards her.

"Do remember that we aren't guests here. This is war - we took your castle by force. Robb isn't one for rape and pillaging, but I know men in this army who are. I could make sure a few of them are on duty one night, guarding your chambers. No one would interrupt. You'd be helpless, at their mercy,"

He stepped closer, so the tip of the dagger lifted her chin, satisfied by her silence and rapid breathing, and the hate in her eyes. She'd kill me if she had the chance, he thought, but her sense of self-preservation was too strong to try.

"Would that make you as good as a dockside whore? I don't think so, no more than it made my mother one, but what are people more likely to believe?" Ren looked down at the woman in dislike, no trace of a smile left. "Your daughter will never marry Lord Stark. If you're smart, you'll quickly wed her to whichever suitor you had lined up before we came, and never speak of this matter again. Because if I hear one more word, from you or anyone else, I really will put those men on your door, and you can bet that no one would lift a finger to stop me," That was a lie, but he hoped he sounded convincing enough. Clearly he did, because she swallowed, looking away and not saying anything. "Well?"

"I won't speak of it again," Lady Sybell ground out, looking ready to spit in his face, but at the same time, she was afraid.

Ren kept his knife at her throat for a few seconds more, before turning and leaving without another word. He hoped she wasn't stupid enough to call his bluff. The idea of having to carry out his threat left a bad taste in his mouth.

*

It was with half a dozen men that Ren rode north with, a force small enough to be unnoticed if they tried hard enough.

The idea had been his own; Robb had initially been unsure, but it was worth trying, considering they had come all this way. Where the majority of the Stark and Tully forces would soon be making a hasty retreat east, moving out of Tywin Lannister's way but putting up enough of a fight to be convincing enough to keep the man advancing, Ren and his men would ride north.

They had Jaime as a hostage at Riverrun, a seasoned battle commander, valuable as a captive. But they definitely were not going to trade him for three little girls. The Crag wasn't that much further down the coast than the Banefort, after all. As he had suggested with a small smile, there would be no sense in falling back without taking Lady Giana with them, not when she was so close.

Ren's party kept off the main roads, avoiding towns and villages to remain undetected. All reports would place Robb's army at the Crag, but the Banefort would be on its guard nonetheless. Hence, he had only taken such a small force. It would take too long to capture the castle with the entire army to travel, but this was not to be a battle. Perhaps that was why his cousin hadn't been keen on the idea. Like Lord Eddard, Robb did not seem enthused by cloak-and-dagger work. Ren, on the other hand, enjoyed it.

The Banefort was a formidable castle. It had to be, given it was only two-days sail from Pyke. They were used to reavers in these parts, and the castle was high up on the cliff, giving an uninhibited view out to sea. Its walls were as grey and sheer as the cliff itself, with high watchtowers and a great stone keep, square like many of the older parts of Winterfell. Ren remembered the tales Loreon had recounted, told by his mother's trueborn children, about the Hooded Kings that had reigned here before the Lannisters crushed them in battle. This castle was ancient, and now they were going to break into it.

He had been to this place before, once, with Jaime a long time ago, when the knight had been given leave to visit his younger sister, who was recovering from a nasty childbirth. They hadn't stayed for long, under three weeks. He hoped he remembered the layout.

When Ren had returned to King's Landing after that journey, years ago, Loreon had told him of a tunnel, from the ruined docks on the beach at the base of the cliff up into the castle itself, intended to provide a quick route to the ships to defend against approaching Ironborn. The main tunnel had fallen into disuse and collapsed long ago, but there were several smaller bypasses that Loreon's half-siblings had shown him. Ren hoped that they would be passable for grown men, figuring that Loreon had been six feet tall when he was thirteen, and not exactly a skinny boy.

They went down to the beach after night fell, cloaked in dark greens and browns. Only three men were going in, Ren one of them, having picked the smallest and slightest from the group of soldiers; Eldric and Cain. He himself was the tallest of the three, and they needed someone who could fight well seeing as they were leaving the bigger men behind. Silently, having gone over the plan with a fine-toothed comb beforehand, they set about searching for the main tunnel; if Loreon's information (which Ren's memory of was patchy) was accurate, then there would be a way to squeeze past the initial blockage.

"Here," Came the hissed whisper from Eldric.

They all gathered around a small hole in the cliff, hidden behind a jutting out rock. It looked like a natural cave, narrow and jagged, much smaller than he'd expected. Even in the dim light of the moon, Ren saw the scepticism the faces of the other two.

"The biggest - me - goes first on the way in, last on the way back," He wasn't used to being the biggest of any group of soldiers. "So if anyone gets stuck, the others can get back out to the beach. I'm also the most likely to be kept alive if we get caught. If any guard sees us, I'll hold the passage, which should buy you time to get Lady Giana out and away. If that does happen, and I hear that any harm has come to the lady at the hands of any of you, I will personally hunt the offender down and feed them to Crow. Got it?"

They both nodded. He smiled slightly, stepping into the tunnel.

It was pitch black inside, tight and uncomfortable. Once they were all in, out of sight of the watchtowers, they each lit the small torches they had brought, which illuminated nothing but stone wall, ceiling and floor, and dark nothingness ahead.

Ren led the way, squeezing past rockfalls, around jagged crags and through impossibly tight, steep tunnels, often crawling on his hands and knees. This route would not have been roomy at the best of times, let alone now, when they were forced to take many detours to avoid the blockages, or even dig themselves through. There was plenty of muttered cursing, which Ren did not begrudge; his skin were cut to pieces despite the leather he wore. They had forgone proper armour, needing to be as quiet and agile as possible, which meant there was very little between them and the sharp, rough stone.

It wasn't pleasant thinking about the hundreds of feet of rock that lay above them. Aside from the scuffling and breathing and cursing from the three of them, the silence was eerie, oppressive. There had been one tense moment where Ren could not fit through one tiny gap, getting his shoulders wedged in, but with some wriggling, and Cain pushing his feet, he made it through. All their hearts had skipped a beat when small rocks starting to rain down on the heads, but rather than the ceiling collapsing, it had been debris from a previous rockfall that they had disturbed.

Thankfully, the further in they went, the better the condition of the tunnels became. The rockfalls, low ceilings and tight gaps became less frequent, and they were able to travel along what was the intended main passage with relatively little trouble. The imprints of worn stairs even became visible, and they were definitely going uphill.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached a more defined set of stairs, leading to what appeared to be a trapdoor. Hoping against hope that it did not come out in the middle of the courtyard, Ren extinguished his torch and slowly lifted it open, wincing at the creak, which sounded ten times louder in the dark.

They all crept out into a dark corridor, with a large arched door at one end. The armoury. He recognised that place, having spent hours in there cleaning Jaime's armour. Which means... He beckoned to Eldric and Cain with one hand, leading them down in the opposite direction. There's the training yard.

They carried on, through the cloisters and into the main keep, keeping to the shadows and being watchful of any guards they came across, hiding round corners and in alcoves. They were not here to kill men and cause a disturbance; this would only be a success if the castle did not realise they were here until they were long gone the next morning.

It was obvious when they made it to the floors occupied by the lord and his family, the furnishings becoming more elaborate, the floors freshly swept. Ren had not been up here when he visited before, but it was evident which room was Lady Giana's, side by side with the lord's chambers. Lord Quentyn would be off at war, so surely she was in her own bed. There were two guards posted at one end of the corridor, and the three of them stopped before they were seen.

"I'll loop round and distract them," Ren whispered, knowing that, if a distraction didn't work, he would be able to dispatch them just as easily. "Get Lady Giana, and keep her quiet,"

Both men nodded, and he ducked around the corner, deliberately making a noise. He heard the two guards start to follow and quickened his pace, continuing to make his footsteps noisy to lead them on. Then he reached a dead end. Shit. Dispatching them it would be.

He quickly ducked into the nearest room, leaving the door slightly ajar and praying it was empty. Ren flattened himself against the wall next to the door and cursed as he heard the sound of breathing. In the dim torchlight from the corridor, streaming through the crack in the door, he could make out a small figure asleep in the bed, a child. Gods sake, stay asleep.

The guards were outside now, muttering. Ren drew the dagger at his belt. A shadow grew in the doorway, carefully opening the door and stepping through. In an instant, Ren had wrapped his arm around the man's neck, slitting his throat and clamping a hand over his mouth as he died. The choking was not as quiet as he'd have liked, however, and he scarcely had time to move back into position as the second guard stepping through the door. The man stopped dead at the sight of his friend's corpse, opening his mouth to yell, but Ren was already upon him, giving him the same treatment.

He looked up, hands bloody, to see a pale white face staring back at him. The child, a boy of around six, had sat up, eyes wide and terrified, too scared to even scream, with the blanket gathered up to his chest. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"I won't hurt you," Ren said, thinking fast. "But you have to come with me," He couldn't risk leaving the boy here, not when he could scream or run off and find more guards.

The boy didn't move.

Ren moved closer. "Get up, now," His tone was sharp enough for the child to obey, scrabbling out of bed. "Put some shoes on, too,"

The boy did so, quickly pulling on a tunic and breeches over his nightshirt as well. With his hand on the child's shoulder, Ren stepped around the bodies of the two guards - the boy drew in a sharp breath at the sight of all the blood, but to his credit did not cry or scream - and into the hallway.

"Don't make a sound," He warned the boy, who had to be a Banefort given where he slept, leading him swiftly down the corridor.

Eldric and Cain met them on the way, Lady Giana between them. The woman looked more angry than distressed, and did not seem truly scared until she saw her son with him, green eyes widening in panic. Gods, Loreon would kill him for this... but he had known that since the beginning. For a moment Ren thought she might start to shout, but Eldric's knife at her throat saw that she did not. Hello, auntie.

"That's not necessary," He muttered at the man as they hurried back the way they'd come.

Ren still gripped the boy's shoulder, making sure to keep him away from his mother, in case she decided to make a run for it with both of them. Eldric nodded, lowering the knife. If they hadn't been so pressed for time and the need for silence, Ren would have berated them for dragging Giana out in nothing but a cloak, shoes and her thin but thankfully long nightdress, but as it was, he pressed on. There had to be spare clothes he could give her when they got back to the horses, though she wouldn't fare well in the tunnels.

They reached the trapdoor. Ren sent Eldric in first, followed by the boy, then Cain, then Lady Giana, and finally himself.

"Renan Snow," Giana said the moment he pulled the trapdoor down, the men lighting the torches once more. Her eyes were angry now, and scared. "You were my brother's squire, my son Loreon's friend, even if you're on the side of the Northmen now," I was never not on their side. "Do me a kindness and send Leo back. He's only six, what use is taking him?"

He's also your only trueborn son, if I remember rightly, heir to House Banefort and Tywin Lannister's grandson.

"He'll run crying for the guards the moment I let him go," Ren said in a tone of finality, as they started to move. "Apologies my lady, but we need to be well away from this place by the time the alarm is raised,"

Her eyes, so cheerful and warm every time he had seen her before, narrowed as she twisted her head to look at him. It was easy to forget she was a Lannister. "Don't think I missed that blood on your hands," Giana said, her rage unmistakable. "You've killed men to get to me, for what?"

"To win a war," He replied. "My uncle is dead at the hands of a mad, cruel King who has no right to even sit the throne in the first place,"

He waited for her to deny the claims of incest, but she didn't say anything at all. They set off, hurrying back down the narrow passageway. Giana didn't speak until they got to the first section where the ceiling lowered drastically enough for them to have to crawl.

"I hope you don't expect me to crawl on my hands and knees in front of you," She said, arms folded.

"That's the arrangement, my lady," Ren said. "Smallest goes first, biggest at the back, in case anyone gets stuck. Seeing as we're in the company of a child and two small, slight men, I'm afraid you're second last,"

"My hips are much larger than yours, ser," The woman said. "Surely I am more likely to get stuck than you are,"

"You're also more likely to try and get back to the castle, or stab me with my own blade," He said flatly. "My shoulders made it through on the way in, so your hips will manage just fine. And quite honestly, my lady, the width of this tunnel would make trying to switch places rather uncomfortable,"

"But - "

"If you get stuck, I'll give you a push," He cut her off, hearing a snort from Cain up ahead.

"Do you talk to your mother like that?" Giana scowled at him like a petulant girl, but continued nonetheless.

Ren resisted saying that his mother wouldn't need a push as her hips were much narrower. And that trying to kidnap Lady Rosennis would likely be a lot harder, given she slept with a dagger under her pillow, and wouldn't hesitate to use it. Though she spent a lot of time in the Dreadfort, so that was understandable.

"My mother would slap me if I did," He said honestly, taking off his gloves and passing them forward to her. "Here, you'll need these, if you want your hands to still have skin by the end,"

"What about you?" She asked, forgetting she shouldn't be concerned with the hands of her kidnapper.

"Mine are tougher than yours," Ren shrugged. "Just tell Loreon about this, when he's trying to cut off my head the next time I see him,"

She let out a rather choked laugh, taking the gloves. Up ahead, Cain gave his own gloves to the boy, Leo. To Giana's credit, she didn't complain once during their journey through the tunnels, though her knees must be rubbed raw. Though when they finally emerged onto the beach, he saw the unshed tears in her eyes, as she gathered the cloak around her more tightly against the cold, and to cover her now grubby and torn nightdress.

"There'll be spare clothes back with the horses," Ren said to her as they began to climb up the stairs set into the cliff, Cain and Eldric going ahead with the boy, who they seemed to have taken a liking to. "Later, once we've gotten some distance away, we can stop and boil some water to clean those wounds,"

She was silent for a moment.

"How long will we be travelling?"

"A week at our pace, perhaps slightly more as we'll have to avoid going anywhere near Lord Tywin's army," He said. "Particularly once he hears we have you captive. Fortunately that means we go around the mountains, then down past Raventree to Riverrun,"

"Riverrun?" She frowned. "Why not the Crag? Are we not joining up with Robb Stark?"

"No, we're not," Ren didn't elaborate any more on that, not wanting to give the plan away in case they were captured themselves.

Giana was silent after that, though thanked him for the clothes they cobbled together for her to change into. It was an odd sight, seeing the lady dressed in a plain tunic and breeches, though much better than a ragged nightgown. To spare her modesty, they'd given her a tunic belonging to the largest man here, that fell halfway to her knees, though she still kept her cloak wrapped around herself. It was likely better that way; with the hood up, she looked just like one of them, rather than a conspicuously beautiful woman with golden hair.

They rode long and hard that day, tired as the three of them that had traversed the tunnels were. Before the sun had risen, they were leagues away from the Banefort, around the time that the dead guards and missing lady would be discovered. They did not stop for more than the five minutes it took to let the horses drink after that, and even when both the horses and riders grew more tired, Ren only let them walk and trot rather than stop to rest.

It was only after the sun set that he allowed them to stop for the night, for fear of being caught up with, though it helped that they were going in an unexpected direction, east rather than south to Robb. Himself, Cain and Eldric were near dead on their feet, having not slept the night before, and young Leo Banefort was already asleep from where he rode in front of one of the other men. Ren set one of the others on watch duty, before succumbing to much-needed sleep. Giana slept with her son in her arms, curled up around him with her back to them all.

Their rest didn't last long, however, as little more than six hours later they were up and riding again. They could ease up the pace as the journey went on, but it was important they got as far away from the Banefort as possible these first few days.

So as not to exhaust the horses, they were alternating who rode with Lady Giana sat behind them, and that day it was Ren's turn. The lady seemed to be in a better mood after having slept a little.

"You're a good rider," Giana noted.

"Not as good as my mother or sister," He said. "Flattery won't make us let you go, my lady,"

"That wasn't flattery," She protested. "That was just being nice,"

From anyone else he would've questioned that, but from her? Perhaps not.

"What have I done to earn you being nice?"

"Very little," She sniffed. "But seeing as you won't let us go, I see no point in making us both miserable, and I'm bored besides. That's what they don't tell you about being a hostage - how dull it is,"

Ren chuckled at that. "My mother was King Aerys' hostage," He said. "His idea of entertainment seemed to be burning people alive. I think I'd rather be bored,"

"Yes, Jaime said he used to do that..." Giana mused sadly, then her tone picked up. "Speaking of Jaime, you mentioned last night... him and Cersei,"

He blinked at her abrupt introduction of what was normally a delicate subject, though they were somewhat behind the rest of the group and likely out of earshot.

"Did you know about it, before all this? You were around him all the time,"

"I only realised after my uncle became Hand," He said after a pause, surprised by her change in tone. "I believe it stopped long before I was his squire. Did you know?"

"Yes, but I should have seen it far earlier," He heard her frown. "Even Tyrion noticed before me, and he was only a child. It took me catching them at it once for me to realise,"

"You saw - " Ren broke off, sickened. That would be like him walking in on Edrick and Aileen. "How did Cersei not kill you for that?"

"Oh she wanted to," Giana said. "There and then, she screamed at Jaime to draw his sword and kill me,"

He remembered now, why his mother was certain the affair between the twins had ended.

The woman continued. "He refused, obviously. That's why they barely look at each other anymore," She sounded pleased. "Though I think things had been building up before then,"

"To late to stop the twins and Tommen being born, though,"

"At least there weren't any more," She said, then her tone changed to something rather uncharacteristically sly. "Although... did your mother ever tell you who your father was?"

"Why do you ask?" Surely it can't be that obvious.

"I have my suspicions,"

"Everyone does, my lady," He said. "Some say it was Aerys Targaryen, some say it was a common guardsman, others a stable yard groom. They all have the same amount of proof,"

"Turn around, just for a second," She said, and he did, before returning his eyes to the path. "You've got Lannister eyes. You glare like my father and you fight like my brother,"

"I was his squire for five years. It would be stranger if I didn't," He ignored the bit about Lord Tywin.

"Oh come on, it's there for anyone who's looking," Giana scoffed. No one normally cares enough to look. "I had my suspicions when I first met you aged ten," His skepticism clearly showed without speaking, for she continued. "It's an odd pair, I'll grant you that. I wouldn't have thought your mother to be of interest to Jaime,"

"Is she not blonde enough?" Ren asked mildly.

"Very funny. No, but she is very... prickly,"

"And that's odd because Jaime's the friendliest person in Westeros?" He laughed.

"So now you're arguing in support of it?"

"No, I - " He stopped, shaking his head. "Why do you care so much?"

"I want to know how much I'm allowed to hate you for kidnapping me and my son," She shrugged.

A pause.

"If it stops you stabbing me in my sleep, I'll happily call you Auntie,"

She laughed at that, a pretty, girlish sound that sounded far younger than her years. Ren had to smile, wondering what it would be like to have a mother like that; his own mother's laugh was rare, and she had acted older than her years for as long as he could remember, whereas whenever he had seen Loreon and Giana together, they acted more like close friends than mother and son. Though given the different paths life had taken the two women on, that wasn't surprising.

"I would give half the gold in Casterly Rock to hear you say that to Cersei," She said wickedly.

"That would be a death sentence, my lady,"

*

Edited November 2024

See, I told you it would be a quick update! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and that the kidnapping of Giana wasn't too far fetched. Finally moving away from Ross, Loreon and Stannis in this one. Another crisis averting by Robb not marrying Jeyne, a glimpse into the Stark's warging and a closer look at Ren's darker side.

Thanks to all the readers, and everyone who reviews/comments. It truly means a lot to know this story is appreciated, and I love hearing what you all have to say, be it good or bad.