The Little Wolf

One of Your Kind

King's Landing

Through the dense forest she ran, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her. She wasn't Ser Lyra this time, just a shadow, just an Outsider. Lev sprinted after her, sprinting as a petite white tiger, before leaping off the ground and turning in a small hawk, flapping his wings furiously to pace himself with his master. The things the two of them had seen that morning were worth the run, and Lyra's soul had been changed irreparably, forcing Lev to age up slightly.

An execution. 

The King had ordered, prior to departing on a hunting trip, that a perfectly innocent man be executed. He had been a boy from a poor family, only to grow into an impoverished young man, now making a living cleaning dung out of the Royal stables. Lyra had met him once before, he accompanied the Southerners on their journey to Winterfell. He always looked at Lyra with an odd sympathy, while his expression was dull for everyone else. He understood her, and they had never even met.

It was only until his head rolled that she, at last, understood him.

The man was an Outsider. 

"Kill him!" and "He's a monster!" disrupted her game with Arya in the early hours of the morning. Arya had Needle immediately drawn out of its small sheath, and Lyra had done the same with Wolf. The two girls tiptoed down the hallway, following the angry voices. The voices grew louder, but they were unable to see anything through the mass of people. 

"Lyra, have a look around" her sister had told her as she was hoisted into the air. She could feel Arya's skinny arms tremble beneath her, still Lyra stretched herself as far as she was able, to see over the crowd. In front sat the King, seated on the Iron Throne, the chair made of thousands of swords. The Queen, Cersei, stood beside him, with her cunning expression still intact. Beside her was the small council, though she was unsure of all their names; the bald man was Varys, Lyra always thought he talked funny. The Kings brother, Renly, was present, smirking at the poor man. Also smirking was Littlefinger, who had spoken to Sansa the day of the Hand's Tourney. 

"I don't know what's going on, it's hard to tell", she said, patting Arya's shoulder to be let down. 

"Come on!" her sister had hissed, grabbing her wrist and dragging her into an isolated corridor, further away from the voices. Arya continued to drag Lyra, now rushing  up a flight of steep stairs, undoubtedly forgetting she was holding her little sister due to her curiosity. As they ran further up the stairs, the voices appeared again, growing louder and louder.

It was only then that Lyra registered where Arya was taking her; the empty landing above the courtroom. Occasionally people would sit up here when the court was full, but as the conviction was sudden, no civilian had time to gather. 

"He's a monster, kill him" the Queen had said.

"Please, Your Grace, I have a child!"

"Kill the child too." Cersei ordered.

The small council looked at her, failing to hide their shock. Surely they were to know by now, lions aren't kind, there was no limit to their ruthlessness.

"If the parent is infected, so will be the child", she argued, smirking at the man, who had collapsed in a pool of tears.

"Oh, shut your mouth you blasted woman. I am the king, I rule", King Robert interjected.

After a slight silence, the man sobbed, "Your Grace, may you permit me to ask one question?"

The King sighed, and looked around at the court angrily. "Fine, what is it?"

After a hesitant start, he stuttered, "W-what...w..what is my crime?"

The small council had discretely looked at each other, and the small crowd murmured confusedly together, as no one, not even the King, had an immediate response.

Naturally, though, Cersei did: "You're an Outsider, and should be slaughtered like the rest of your kind."

Arya had looked at Lyra, her mouth agape. The Little Wolf ignored Arya's reaction, and leaned against the wall, tears pricking her eyes. 

Her sister had always been jealous of Lyra being an Outsider. Having an animal that mimicked your soul seemed a good thing; until she aged, and realised they were merely deer in a hunt with lions. Arrival at King's Landing had opened Arya's eyes, too. Lyra used to be eternal sunshine in a thunderstorm, but lately she'd been absent, torn apart, like something was missing. Her soul very frequently could not be anywhere near her, and she was empty. 

Aghast, yet filled with anger, Arya said, "I'll 'em! I'll kill any one who hurts you. That I promise, little sister."

Lyra didn't care what Arya had to say, she only cared about retreating. 

Tears pricked her eyes as she ran, and soon dribbled down her cheeks. Huffing and puffing, she ran further into the deep forest. She would run back to the North, she would leave this wretched place. She would go to the Land of Souls, deep in the Land of Always Winter, then journey back to the Wall, she would go to Jon.

I can't go to the Wall. 

She realised, and the tears continued to stream. Fact of the matter, as she'd overheard prior to the execution, the Wall was trained to shoot Outsider's dead. Any Outsider that was to approach the Wall would be destroyed. They were alienated, murdered if they were in Westeros, and exiled beyond the Wall. Henceforth, they were associated with the White Walkers and Wildlings, and the Wall was constructed to keep them all out. 

And Jon was part of it. 

No, he can't have known, he can't have accepted. She'd sneak to the Wall and tell him, he'd be horrified.

She'd never felt so alone. She's never felt so hated, so hunted, so lost.

She fled to the dense forest behind King's Landing, Lev rushing behind her. She had never known the severity of her situation; the exact danger of her being an Outsider in King's Landing. Her father had known, so did her mother, still they sent her here. Rage boiled up inside her; she was sent here like a lamb going to the slaughter, and everyone had known and accepted. 

How do you accept that you are going to be executed for no reason other than how you were born? That man was executed for a crime he didn't know he'd committed. 

Lyra hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face. She'd always been one to enjoy solitude, but not solitude sparked by alienation. Sadness replaced anger now; her fifth nameday had been and gone and she'd spent it confined to her chamber, locked away so no one would know she was what they all deemed a 'monster'. 

Lev pinned his ears back and rested his soft head on her knee, peering into her eyes. He knew of the sadness his master felt, for now he was forged by it; her soul was sad, and so was Lev. Gently Lyra moved her hand and slowly ran it through his white coat, and he ceased his yowling.

"Shh, my friend. One day we will find somewhere we belong. Somewhere we can be together. Somewhere we are respected."

"With you, Lyra, I will remain, for I am your soul and you are my anchor" a voice in her mind echoed, and though it had never happened before, she knew it was Lev.

Her soul, for the first time in her life, had spoken to her. 

With her soul perched on her shoulder, she headed back to the castle she's fled from. Lev would always be with her, and that was the biggest comfort she'd had in the months they'd been in King's Landing. 

They were united.