'Oh shit.'
Dean's calm evaporated instantly.
'Shit, shit, shit.'
He had known Stark was coming. He had been preparing for it. But somehow seeing the man actually materialize through the fog on horseback, dark armor, greatsword across his back, that unmistakable weight of authority sitting on his shoulders like it had been born there, made everything suddenly and terrifyingly real in a way that abstract planning simply had not.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
The ants were not in position yet.
The one sent toward the horses had barely covered any meaningful distance. The one climbing the slope toward the upper guards was still somewhere in the middle of the incline, picking its way up slowly.
And the one he had sent into the foggy area beyond the hill, his best escape route, his most important piece on the board...
Vanished.
One moment its presence was there at the edge of his awareness, the next moment it was simply gone. Snuffed out like a candle. There and then not there, with nothing in between.
Dean blinked.
'Son of a bitch.'
He had no idea what killed it. The ability gave him no vision through his soldiers' eyes, no final image of what had happened in that fog. It was just gone, the slot it had occupied suddenly sitting empty in the back of his mind, and he was left staring at Stark's approaching figure with one fewer option than he'd had thirty seconds ago.
'Alright,' Dean thought, forcing the panic back down with considerable effort. 'Alright. Fine. It's fine.'
It was not entirely fine.
But Eddard Stark was perhaps forty meters away now and closing, and falling apart was not something Dean could afford to do in the next sixty seconds.
He straightened his back, rolled his shoulders as much as the bounds allowed, and fixed his eyes on the approaching lord.
He knew that he had to convince Ned not to kill him....well at least until the ants of his get into proper positions.
Soon Ned reined his horse to a stop. A moment later he dismounted, landing heavily on the ground. His sons followed shortly after, climbing down from their horses as well. Together they began walking toward the place of execution.
More people had gathered now.
Dean quickly recognized several familiar faces.
Jon Snow stood slightly apart from the others, watching quietly. Robb Stark was beside him, already looking every bit the young lord in training. Bran was there too, small and curious, trying to see everything that was happening. Theon was brought along and he carried the sheathed sword that would be used by Ned for the execution.
Around them, Stark guards had taken their positions. Several remained mounted, forming a loose ring around the clearing. They sat tall in their saddles, spears held upright in one hand while the Stark banner fluttered from the other.
The place was locked down.
'Boy... if Stark doesn't agree with my words,' Dean thought grimly, 'it's going to be a harsh escape.'
He did not have many options with so many guards surrounding him.
Taking Bran hostage was out of the question. Robb and Jon were standing close enough that any move toward the boy would end with a sword through Dean's chest before he even got halfway.
Which meant the only real plan left was a desperate one.
Kill the guard standing near the Stark family's horses.
The man had a knife at his belt. If Dean could grab it fast enough, he might be able to put the blade in the guard's throat before anyone reacted. After that he would need the spear.
Then kill one of the horses and run.
If he did not kill the horse first, it might panic or refuse to move. Worse, it could throw him off before he managed to escape the clearing.
But if he pulled that off...
Dean exhaled slowly.
He would become a permanent enemy of House Stark.
And once that happened, he would be hunted day and night across the North.
Soon Ned and the others reached the top of the hill.
The guards standing beside Dean grabbed him roughly and pushed him forward toward the execution platform.
The platform itself was nothing more than a thick tree trunk that had been cut flat at the top. The center had been hollowed out just enough for a man's neck to rest in place while the blade came down.
A simple, brutal device.
Within moments Dean found himself standing face to face with the man who had been the protagonist of the first season of the show.
Many people called this man an honorable fool.
Dean did not entirely agree with that.
Sure, the man had no talent for politics. In that pit of snakes called King's Landing, Ned Stark had been practically doomed from the moment he stepped through the gates.
But the man had character....real character. The kind that was rare even in fiction.
Dean had always liked him.
Standing here now though, face to face with the man himself, Dean did not feel much of anything.
If he had to kill Ned Stark to escape from here, he would do it without hesitation.
Right now nothing in the world was more
important than living.
He would not let anyone stand between him and his life.
Dean forced those thoughts aside as he noticed the subtle movement of Ned's hand.
The man was about to give the order.
The guards beside Dean stepped closer, preparing to force his head down onto the hollowed trunk and carry out the execution.
"My lord."
Dean's voice came out steady. Cleaner than he had expected given the state of his heart.
The hand Ned had raised paused.
The guards beside Dean stilled as well, not releasing him but no longer pushing him forward either. They looked to their lord for direction.
Ned Stark turned his gaze from the execution trunk and fixed it on Dean fully for the first time.
His eyebrows rose slightly. Not dramatically. Just enough to indicate that a condemned deserter speaking up at this particular moment was mildly unexpected, though not entirely without precedent.
"I have something important to say to you, my lord," Dean continued, holding the man's gaze without flinching. "Something you need to hear before this is done. I ask only a moment of your time."
A beat of silence passed.
The wind moved through the trees around them.
Ned studied him for a long moment with those grey northern eyes that had an uncomfortable habit of looking directly at a thing rather than around it. Then with a short measured nod he gave the indication for Dean to continue.
Dean did not waste a single breath of it.
He had two things he needed to accomplish right now. The first was to plant enough doubt in Eddard Stark's mind that the man's honor and caution would do the rest of the work for him. The second was to keep talking long enough for his ant to finish crossing the distance to the guard standing near the horses.
He pressed forward.
"My lord, beyond the Wall I encountered something that I cannot explain by any natural means." He kept his voice level and direct. The tone of a man reporting rather than pleading. "I thought perhaps I was going mad. I told myself that was what it was. That the cold had gotten into my head and was making me see things that were not there."
He paused for exactly one breath.
"Then they killed my companions."
The words landed in the quiet of the clearing.
He watched Ned's face. Something shifted there. Barely visible, but Dean had studied this man's expressions across multiple rewatches and he caught it.
"They came out of the dark beyond the Wall, my lord," Dean said. "Fast. Strong and dangerous. My brothers did not cry out. They did not even have time to draw steel before they were taken apart. Torn to pieces like they weighed nothing at all."
He held Ned's gaze.
"The only reason I am standing before you right now, my lord, and not lying frozen in pieces beyond the Wall beside the rest of them, is because the old gods intervened."
Ned's eyes narrowed fractionally.
Ser Rodrik Cassel had described this man as insane. Mad with fear. The kind of hollow-eyed wreck that stumbled out of the wilderness babbling about shadows and monsters.
The man standing in front of Ned Stark right now looked nothing like that.
Ned studied him in silence for a moment, a faint crease forming between his brows.
Dean continued with his string of lies.
"They showed me things, my lord. The old gods. Through their eyes in the wood and the dark. Things that are coming. Things that the Night's Watch needs to hear, and that the Lord of Winterfell needs to hear, before it is too late to matter."
Ned Stark's gaze hardened slightly.
"What matter?" he asked.
"The White Walkers, my lord," Dean replied instantly. "They are real. And they are coming."
A faint murmur spread among a few of the men standing nearby.
Dean could almost feel Ned resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
After all, Rodrik Cassel had surely told him everything the captured Will had been muttering before Dean tramnsigrated into this world. Mad talk. Tales from children's stories meant to frighten boys into obedience.
Dean saw the doubt in the man's face.
So he smiled faintly.
"My lord," Dean said calmly, "I understand how this must sound to you. Like the ravings of a frightened man who has spent too long beyond the Wall. Or man sprouting shit to save his neck."
Ned said nothing.
Dean continued.
"The old gods knew you would think so. That is why they gave me a way to prove that what I say is true."
Ned's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And how is that?"
"They gave me something to tell you," Dean said. "Something that only you would know."
As he spoke, Dean tried to step forward.
The guards immediately tightened their grip on him.
Hands clamped onto his arms, preventing him from moving even an inch closer.
Ned glanced toward them.
"Release him."
The guards hesitated for only a moment before obeying their lord's command.
They loosened their hold and stepped aside, though they remained close enough to intervene if the prisoner attempted anything foolish.
Dean gave a small thankful nod and slowly stepped forward until he stood close enough that only Ned could hear him clearly.
A faint smile appeared his face.
Then he leaned in slightly and whispered.
"The old gods told me that the man you brought back to Winterfell and raised as your bastard..."
"...Jon Snow..."
"...is no bastard of yours."
Dean's voice dropped even lower.
"He is a Targaryen."
"Your sister's son."
For a single heartbeat the world seemed to stop.
Ned Stark's eyes widened.
Shock flickered across his face before he could hide it.
And in that instant Dean knew he had struck exactly where he intended.
☩ ───── End of Chapter ───── ☩
For 5+ advance chapters visit my P1treon.
P1treon - Midnightblade07'