Game of thrones: The Lustful sellsword

The wheels of fate had begun to turn.

Everything I had prepared for—everything I had been waiting for—was finally here.

The morning was cold, the northern wind cutting through the trees as Lord Stark and his men rode out to carry out the duty of justice.

A Night's Watch deserter had been captured, and by Northern law, deserters faced only one punishment.

Death.

The Stark Way

I stood among the gathered men, watching, observing.

I said nothing.

Ned Stark did not hesitate. His blade was swift, his arm steady.

The deserter knelt, his breath visible in the cold air. He was afraid, but he did not beg.

The greatsword Ice came down in a single, clean stroke.

The body fell. The head hit the snow.

And that was it.

The Stark way. Swift justice. No cruelty. No hesitation.

Robb and Jon watched intently, standing near their father. Bran was wide-eyed, learning his first lesson of what it meant to be a Stark.

Theon smirked, amused by it all.

And I?

I simply watched.

Not out of reverence, not out of horror.

But because this moment meant something.

It was the beginning.

The Game of Thrones had begun.

A Wolf & A Stag

As we rode back toward Winterfell, something changed.

The horses slowed.

The men quieted.

Something was wrong.

Then, we saw it.

A great dead stag, collapsed in the snow, its antlers broken.

And not far from it, a massive direwolf—its throat torn open, blood staining the white snow.

The men muttered amongst themselves. Direwolves hadn't been seen this far south in generations.

Ned Stark dismounted, stepping forward, examining the beasts.

And then—a sound.

A soft, whimpering cry.

The men followed the noise, and there, nestled beside their dead mother, were five tiny direwolf pups.

The moment I saw them, I knew fate was at work.

Five pups. Five Stark children.

One for each of them.

Jon was the one who spoke, stepping forward. "Lord Stark, there are five pups. One for each of your trueborn children."

The moment was heavy, unspoken meaning hanging in the air.

Ned exhaled. "Keep them, then. Train them yourselves."

The pups were gathered.

One day, these small creatures would grow into legends.

But today?

Today, they were just orphans.

Like me.

Gaining Trust

In the days that followed, I noticed something.

Ned Stark's gaze lingered on me less suspiciously.

He trusted me more.

Not fully. Not entirely.

But he saw me as a man of discipline. A man who followed his orders. A man who was not reckless or overly ambitious.

That was good.

I needed his trust.

The more he trusted me, the closer I could stay to his family.

The closer I could stay to Sansa.

A Night's Indulgence

But while patience was necessary for my plans, I was still a man.

And a man had needs.

The past few days had been spent training, keeping my head down, watching, waiting.

It was time to relieve myself.

Ros.

The memory of our last encounter flashed through my mind.

Her soft skin, the way she moaned, the way she gave herself over to pleasure.

A smirk curled at my lips.

Yes.

It was time to pay her another visit.