DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 2 - CLASH OF THE KINGS

Ghost I

Silent shadows danced beneath the watchful eye of Ghost, who prowled through the dense soldier pines, senses attuned to the slightest disturbance. His keen nostrils sifted through the mingling scents, filtering out the familiar aroma of his human's companion, replaced by the sharp tang of pine needles. Beside him, Greywind, his brother in fur and fang, shared the same solemn vigil, their silent communication echoing through the still night air.

"The hounds trail the Freefolk by the lake's edge," Ghost conveyed to Greywind. "Circle back to the keep, fetch your human. She remains by the water's edge."

Ghost and Jon shared a deep connection, their bond unbreakable even amidst uncertainty. The direwolf could feel his human grappling with perplexing questions: Had Jon traversed back in time? Was the Three-Eyed Raven interfering with the threads of time? Or did Jon possess the greensight himself?

Yet such thoughts held little sway over Ghost's purpose. His sole focus was on reaching Jon's companion before danger could strike. But first, he must locate her amidst the dark wilderness of the forest.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he bounded forth, spurred by urgency and fear for his human's mate. In the distance, the malevolent echo of the adversary's voice taunted him—a reminder of the imminent threat that loomed. How far? Ghost could only hazard a guess—a mile, perhaps.

How far did the danger lurk? A league? A mere whisper of a mile? Ghost could only surmise. With each pounding stride, the gap closed, the urgency of his mission lending swiftness to his pace.

His senses were assaulted by the metallic tang of blood, a stark reminder of imminent peril. Normally, this would strike hunger. But this was no ordinary blood, it was the life essence of his human's beloved companion, an affront to all that was sacred. Ghost's resolve hardened, his primal instincts warring against the restraint demanded by his human's wishes. To maim, but not to kill. That was the delicate balance he must maintain.

Ghost heard the bad man speak. "Aren't you a vision, my dear?"

Ghost's anger surged as he heard the bad man's cruel words. "Hurt, don't kill," he repeated to himself, fighting against his primal instincts. He raced toward the scent, knowing Jon's mate was in grave danger.

The bad man's voice was filled with malice as he spoke of Sansa's dire situation.

"Even if you were to scream, my dear, I doubt your men would come running to your aid. Most of them are under my command now. Those few loyal to House Stark? Dead, all of them. My men made sure of it, and my hounds finished them off. They're probably still enjoying the spoils as we speak. But fear not, my dear Sansa, you won't be joining them in their feast today. Such a shame, really. Sansa is such a lovely name. I had half a mind to name one of my bitches, Sansa. Alas, I have my orders, strict ones at that."

Ghost didn't understand all the words, but he knew she needed help urgently. The scent of another wolf hit his nostrils. His hackles were initially raised, but then it was familiar. Pack, he thought His sister's scent joined the fray, offering her support.

Despite the bad man's taunts, Ghost remained focused on his mission. He pushed forward, driven by the need to protect Sansa at all costs.

"Think this little toy could do any damn harm to me? You're a fool if you believe so."

Dagger, Ghost knew his human gave her a dagger. Bad man has found it. Must run faster.

"I wonder, does your bastard brother suckle at your breasts? Does he feast on your juices as you come from him using his mouth? Does he fuck you?"

Nearly there, he told his sister. Run to the other side. Do not kill the bad man. Nymeria left him to circle around the other side of the bad man.

"Now, where shall I carve you, my dear, where it won't be readily visible but will linger as a memento of our time together?"

A muffled scream. Do not kill, just hurt.

"Oh my, such a vision of beauty. I believe a beauty mark is in order, wouldn't you agree?"

A horse whinnied. They were getting closer.

"Shut your filthy mouth, you brother-fucking whore!"

Ghost crept along the ground. Nymeria was close by, he could see her. Don't kill him, just hurt him. Distract him.

Nymeria growled. The bad man stopped and looked in the direction of his sister. The horse whinnied again, the bad man turned to look at his horse, but saw nothing. He turned his attentions back to his human's companion. Only then did he notice Nymeria. He picked up the dagger and lifted his arm to throw it, but Ghost had already leapt towards him and was in the air. Ghost hit the bad man on the back, pushing him to the floor, laying on his front. Nymeria approached, and snarled. The bad man scrabbled for his dagger. Ghost put his paw on it, and Nymeria grabbed the bad man's foot.

Hurt, not kill. Nymeria pulled the man far away and bit the foot off. The bad man screamed. Good, Ghost thought. Let him hurt.

"Ser Barristan." His human's mate whispered.

Ghost looked to Nymeria who knew what to do, she ran towards the tributary while Ghost approached his human's mate. Ghost looked to the bad man, but he was sleeping, just like his human's mate. It was time he let his human, Jon, take over.