Lone wolf of winterfell

Lone wolf-Pentos and the Quiet wolf

ONE WEEK LATER from His reunion with the spider 

298 AC, The Free Cities of Essos, Pentos

The moment Y/N dismounted and stepped foot through the northern gate of the Free City of Pentos, he sensed a curious and unusual attention. He was used to having strange looks and stares now and again, but this time it was even more noticeable. He wondered what was so strange about him that everybody was staring at him as if he were a hero from one of the many tales his wet nurse had read to him as a boy. It was awkward, but he tried to ignore it and pretend as though their looks didn't bother him or deter him from his goal.

"Go to Pentos and inquire about Illyrio Mopatis. He'll figure it out." Back at the docks in Braavos, Lord Varys told him.

Varys informed him of Jon Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie and Hand of the King, and their conversation was cut short. It began with Y/N being enraged when asked about his father and mother, but Varys seemed to have anticipated their meeting and spoke softly. He'd even delivered a letter from his mother to Y/N.

"Can you tell me why you're giving this to me?" Y/N inquired, his eyes filled with anguish and his hands trembling as he grasped the carefully folded note.

"It's been a long time since your mother asked me to send this to you. I couldn't spot you then, but now that I've seen you..."

''There is also another gift waiting for you when you get to Illyrio Mopatis from your brothers Jon and Robb''

"You really can't get enough of your sick little games... "Don't you, a spider spinning his webs ?"

Y/N could still feel the bitter anger he was feeling at the time, but he did his best to mask it by thinking about something else that didn't concern his beloved family.

Y/N walked slowly through the people of Pentos, guiding himself with the prior experience he acquired from taverns, wandering traders, and the locals, he was able to find himself in the heart of the Market. Merchants advertised their lowest rates to the onlookers, farmers traded their cattle, and tailors displayed their new trends and crafts. When he walked past booths, the overpowering scent of spices overwhelmed him; he could also taste the fire of the spices on the tip of his tongue just by smell. He felt suffocated by the sun, the various smells, and the people he wanted to leave at all times.

Pulling on the reins to lead himself and his mount to the other side of the market, Y/N began to make a run for it when he sensed a hard weight on his back, causing him to turn around and face his intruder. What he didn't predict was the Captain's cracked nose and busted lip.Before Y/N could reach forward to draw his blade from his shoulder to protect himself, he saw the Captain's broad fist and the anticipated  crunching pain before blacking out.

''Flashback''

291 AC, Westeros, Winterfell

It was cold. It was very cold, colder than Y/N could ever remember. A young boyㅡno older than eleven namedaysㅡlaid underneath the warmth of deerskin pelts and furs, his hair sticking to his forehead from sweating so profusely, his eyelids closed and his breath erratic. He was battling a terrible fever.

"Isn't there anything you can do, Maester?" Eddard inquired, his voice trembling with anxiety.Luwin sighed deeply and turned to face the ill young boy and his worried mother by his bedside."I'm afraid I've done everything I can. Now it's up to the gods and the boy." "I will provide him with the milk of the poppy for the pain," Maester Luwin lamented, "but that is all I can do, Lord Stark."