Lone wolf of winterfell

The lone wolf-pilot

The night was cold and gloomy, filled with horrors beyond one's wildest dreams. The forest slept wistfully, the beast of the night lulled into a deep slumber by a gentle midnight song, rocking its leaves and settling a light fog among the fallen leaves and branches of the earth, extending its long fingers and clawing at the frozen ground. Just the roar of a nearby river and the distant rustle of moving footsteps could be heard...

With their ragged breath and panicked movements, four figures raced through the dead leaves, suddenly to sleeping willows and creatures to a shocking echo, waking up the entire trees. They seemed confused, unable to hold their bearings; their only goal was to get away from the shadows, which were pursuing them with torches and dog barks. They dressed in rags, and the only thing that kept them safe were the heavy set furs, which were like parchment against the raging storm that was about to descend on the helpless. Only one of the four was dressed differently from the others; he was armour, with a thick fur draped over his back, keeping him warm. Only he knows the path to safety, and therefore only he was their only chance of surviving the King of the Realm, King Robert Baratheon's, unjust laws.

"Hurry!" exclaimed the young boy in armour to his companions. Looking back to see the fugitives struggling, his gaze drifted past them to the hill behind them, a brilliant transfixed light from the hunters torches showing their closing position—no doubt from his father—men who had assembled to hunt the three offenders.

There was a manhunt going on. If captured, it would mean the deaths of all four of them, but the young boy was adamant to get them to safety. Everything he had to do was get them to East watch, where he had a friend who would smuggle them out, safely beyond the grasp of King Robert and even his Lord father. All he had to do was get them there... but with men yelling and bloodhounds barking, even Y/N Stark was worried they wouldn't make it.

298 AC, The Free Cities of Essos, Braavos-Around four years later

Y/N Pov

Y/N was thrown from his seat by a sharp sting, landing harshly on the tavern's wooden boards. His jaw ached, and the rusty taste of blood in his mouth plunged the man into a furious whirlwind of aggression disguised as calmness. Y/N raised himself up off the ground with a grunt and some effort, and stood on two feet. Looking over towards the brute, whose face was distorted with anger, most likely aimed at Y/N.

He was a tall, dark-skinned man with a crooked nose and a fat lower lip. His angry eyes twitched, and his lower lip pulled down in a snarl, revealing his unsightly yellow teeth underneath. He didn't have any facial hair and just had a small amount of hair between his eyes. He was shirtless, and the only thing he wore were his deep royal purple trousers—which were almost as thick as a second skin, but were made of cloth—and his leather sandals. A curved steel blade hung from his waist, short enough to be used as a knife but long enough to be wielded as a sword.

Without a doubt, Y/N remembered the guy from a sale made not long ago on Tyrosh's shores. Y/N and the pirate struck a deal: bring him to Braavos undetected by police, and he'd pay them handsomely in cash. That was the bargain, but since Y/N noticed his pockets were empty, he needed time to raise the required number, and because Essos controlled their currency mostly through slave trading rather than coins, it was much more difficult."Was that really necessary?" Y/N sneered, rubbing his battered cheek with his palm as he took a moment to survey his surroundings and the two other men who stood behind his aggressor.

"Can you tell me where the gold is?" The Captain spoke in a jumbled manner, his deep accent obtrusive. Y/N shifted his gaze to his left, where a leather bag stood at the foot of the stool. The northerners' possessions were inside, including the money, but it was just enough, and if Y/N gave him everything he had, he'd be left with nothing. Y/N returned the man's stare. He bent down and plucked the satchel from the surface, taking out a small pouch of the promised money.The Captain seemed delighted, his stance mildly relaxed, his gaze fixed on the bag rather than the devious plot unfolding in front of him. The sound of coins in his palm enthralled even the two behind him."It's here," says Y/N. Y/N spoke up as he prepared to put the pouch in his open palm. "Now that I think about it..." Y/N slid the pouch into his coat pocket before reaching over and slamming his entire tankard into the side of the man's head.