xiii.

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chapter thirteen.
↳ ੈ‧₊˚ ┊clash of wolves.

298 AC — Kings Landing ________________________________

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298 AC — Kings Landing
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KIYANA had ran off to go find the Stark girls after Joffrey had commanded them to be captured, Lord Stark put in the dungeons, and every man of Winterfell to be slaughtered.

Screams, cries, blood, and fighting were all that filled the castle.

"Syrio!" Kiyana yelled her dancing master's name as she entered the chambers of the Stark girls, spotting Syrio with his half-cut wooden sword pointed at a big man dressed in armour and with a real sword — Arya hiding in the corner.

"Run, Yana! Take the girl and run!" He shouted.

"But—"

"No buts!" He said. "Arya, go with Kiyana. You can trust her. She'll keep you safe."

He eyed the Knight with hatred. "What do we say to the God of Death?"

"Not today." Both Kiyana and Arya said at once.

"Go." He said sadly.

Kiyana grabbed onto Arya's hand tightly, running off with the little girl in hand. When the two of them had made it to the stairwell, swords were heard ringing and men screaming, fighting shadows being seen through the torch-light.

"This way." Kiyana pulled on Arya's hands, leading her down the stairs.

"Not today. Not today." Arya continued mumbling as the two ran across the castle.

Once they had made it out, all that scattered the dry-grassed fields were the bodies of Northerners — like lambs to the slaughter.

"You need to get into disguise — change your appearance and run — just run, as far and fast as you can." She led Arya to a fallen crate which contained clothing inside.

"There she is." A boy said from behind, making the two whip their heads around. "What do you want?" Arya questioned, continuing to fumble around the loads of garments for something her size.

"I want you, wolf girl. Come here." The plump boy with a bandage around his head said. "Leave me be. My father's a Lord. He'll reward you."

"She'll reward me — the Queen!" He grabbed Arya's arm, lifting her off her knees.

"Stay away!" Arya had found her needle-like blade which she pierced through the boy's plump stomach with — without thinking.

𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝘥𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯Where stories live. Discover now