The midday sun baked the cobblestones of the upper market, where rchants hawked spices, silks, and wine. Laughter mingled with barter and clanging coin. But that lody of normalcy died the mont a blood-curdling growl echoed over the stalls.
Word spread fast. A direwolf. Blood. Lannister guards. A Stark girl.
People froze. Vendors abandoned their carts. Whispers slithered through alleyways.
Then ca the clatter of golden armor.
Jai Lannister strode into the market, forty n at his back. Ser Jai, the Kingslayer—shining arrogance and quiet nace wrapped in gold and crimson. His red cloak billowed behind him, as if it commanded silence. And silence ca.
The crowd parted around him, eyes wide with fearful awe. Whispers rose in his wake.
"That's the little Stark girl—the one they call the Little General."
"Gods... she's just a child."
"That's the Black Wolf's niece."
Jai's n were trained killers—Tywin's veterans, proud and ruthless. They expected the usual: fear, surrender, obedience.
But what they saw ahead made their breath hitch.
A massive black direwolf stood guard, fur soaked in blood, fangs bared, its growl rumbling through stone and flesh. Two of their own lay twisted and lifeless on the bloodied ground.
Behind the beast, Lyanna Stark stood with scraped knees and wild hair, clutching Shadow's thick neck, her wide eyes defiant despite the tremble in her limbs.
Joffrey Baratheon stood nearby, flushed and shaken, torn between fear and pride—until he saw his uncle.
His back straightened.
"Uncle Jai!" he barked. "Kill that mutt! And that Northern bitch!"
Jai blinked. "What?"
"Kill them! She disobeyed ! The beast murdered Lannister n! They dared defy !"
Jai's frown deepened. "Joffrey, this—"
"I COMMAND YOU!"
Jai's jaw tensed. His eyes scanned the area: stunned market-goers, the snarling direwolf, the blood-streaked Watchn, and the girl—barely older than a pup herself—holding her blade like it ant sothing.
He opened his mouth—then ca the howl.
A cold, northern sound that seed to silence even the birds.
And then the wolves arrived.
A surge of black-and-grey cloaks stord into the square—twenty-five n of the City Watch, their armor plain but their presence heavy. Wolves embroidered on their cloaks. Blades at their sides.
At their center strode Cregan Stark.
The Black Wolf of the North.
His hair tousled from haste, black cloak flaring behind him, his face carved from stone. He moved like a storm wrapped in silence, and when he saw Lyanna—her fear, her scraped face, her tears—his rage blood.
The wolfblood boiled within him. His eyes, already sharp, now glinted red like embers fanned to fla.
Jai stiffened. "Gods," he muttered.
The Lannister guards readied themselves. Forty n. Double the Watch's number. They outmatched them in arms, coin, and prestige.
But the Watch didn't move. Didn't falter.
Garnen, brow bleeding, stepped into formation beside Roff, who winced but kept his sword steady.
Two others quickly pulled Lyanna and the wounded back behind a cart, shielding them. Shadow stayed rooted, teeth bared, ears flattened.
None of the Watch backed down.
This wasn't about the girl anymore. This was a line. And they had chosen their side.
They rembered their drills. The words their commander had drilled into them.
"We don't serve gold. We don't serve whispers. We serve the people."
Their thoughts rang in unison:
"We may die, but the North doesn't bend."
"We bleed for the Wolf, not for glory."
"Let them co."
Cregan walked to the center of the square. His Valyrian sword remained sheathed, but his eyes—those glowing, ancient eyes—cut deeper than any steel.
"You brought blades to a child, Lannister," he growled. "And you let this brat order blood in daylight?"
Jai raised a hand. "This wasn't my—"
Joffrey interrupted again, screeching, "I ORDERED IT! That beast killed my n! The guards insulted ! They disobeyed royalty!"
He jabbed a finger toward Garnen. "He called a chicken!"
Garnen muttered, "You are one."
Jai closed his eyes briefly. Please, stop talking...
The Lannister guards looked to Jai, awaiting orders. Expecting dominance. They assud the North would break, like all others had.
But the Watchn behind Cregan slowly drew their swords. Quiet. Deadly.
Blades hissed in the air. Shields were locked. They were few—but they stood tall.
Then Cregan spoke.
"One warning," he said, voice low and edged like a whetted knife. "Back down. Or let's find out if lion blood runs as fast as northern steel."
Jai hesitated.
He saw it—these n would die for him. For her. For this cause.
But pride has claws. And pride is contagious.
A Lannister shouted, "He threatens a prince!"
Another stepped forward, too eager. "They won't fight. Not against Tywin's n."
Then—chaos.
A golden blade swung toward Roff. He blocked with a grunt, turned the blow, and stabbed low—blood sprayed.
Shadow exploded forward, knocking another Lannister off his feet, fangs ripping through mail. A scream. Blood on cobblestones.
Then all hell broke loose.
Steel clashed. Screams tore the air.
Jai's n were experienced—but not prepared for resistance. For fanatics. For wolves.
Garnen spun past a swing and buried his blade in a man's gut.
A Watchman lost his footing, only for another to cover him.
Two guards dragged Lyanna and the injured deeper into cover. One held his shield in front of her like a wall, taking a blow across the shoulder, grunting but staying upright.
The people of the market watched, stunned. Frozen.
So whispered:
"They're fighting Lannisters..."
"They're... winning?"
"The wolf commands loyalty the lion can't buy..."
They saw guards who would die for a little girl. A commander who arrived like thunder. A direwolf painting blood across the tiles.
The Lannisters pressed harder. They had numbers. They had steel.
But they began to falter.
Each man cut down chipped at their confidence.
"Why aren't they breaking?"
"Why aren't they afraid?"
"Why is that wolf still standing?"
A third Lannister went down, gurgling.
Another fell to a Watch blade slicing through his thigh.
Still the Watch held.
And Cregan?
He hadn't yet drawn his sword.
But he stepped forward, step by slow step, his eyes locked on Jai.
The Kingslayer stood still, hands half-raised. He hadn't moved. Hadn't struck.
But his n had.
Cregan's voice, calm amid the chaos, rose like thunder.
"Control them, Lannister. Or I will."
Jai's eyes narrowed.
The battle raged around them, but between these two, there was only silence.
This war hadn't ended.
It had only begun.
---
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