ASOIAF/GOT: The King in Black

Daniel didn't stop running.

The cold air burned in his lungs, sharp and biting, but he forced himself forward, pushing through the undergrowth with a single goal—put as much distance as possible between them and the caravan.

Branches lashed against his arms, some cutting into his skin, but he ignored them. Behind him, he could hear the others crashing through the trees, their breath ragged, their footfalls uneven against the damp earth.

They had minutes. Maybe less.

The guards wouldn't stay distracted forever.

A panicked horse was a problem. A full-blown escape was something else entirely.

Someone would notice. Someone would shout. And once they did, the chase would begin.

Daniel veered left, ducking beneath a fallen tree, his fingers digging into the frozen bark as he vaulted over it. The forest was thinning, the trees giving way to patches of open ground. Not good.

Too exposed.

They needed cover.

He risked a glance back.

Rask was a few paces behind him, moving with a speed that didn't match his bulk. He wasn't struggling. The others, though?

Not all of them were built for this.

One man—a wiry figure with thinning hair—was already lagging. His breath came in desperate gasps, his hands still half-bound from the hasty cut of the ropes.

Another, a younger man, stumbled over a root, crashing hard onto his hands and knees.

Daniel cursed under his breath.

He couldn't afford dead weight.

"Keep moving," he barked.

The younger man pushed himself up, eyes wild with fear, and kept running.

Rask pulled up alongside him, his voice low and steady. "We're slowing down. If they send riders, we're done."

Daniel knew that.

"We need a place to hide," he said.

"Then find one," Rask shot back.

Daniel forced himself to think.

The land around them sloped downward, the trees growing denser ahead. A valley? A ravine? If they could get low enough, maybe—

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Daniel's body tensed.

Not a bird. A signal.

They'd been spotted.

"Shit," someone behind him gasped.

Daniel grabbed Rask's arm. "Downhill. Now."

They veered sharply, their pace doubling as they plunged into the thickening forest. The ground dipped beneath them, the incline growing steeper. Loose dirt shifted under their feet.

A yell rang out from behind them—one of the guards. Another whistle followed, sharper this time.

A horse screamed.

Daniel didn't stop to look.

The slope turned treacherous fast. His foot caught on a rock, and suddenly he was tumbling forward, the world spinning.

His shoulder hit the ground first, pain jolting through his ribs, but he didn't stop rolling until he crashed against a fallen log.

For a second, all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears.

Then—more bodies tumbling down after him.

Rask hit the ground next, rolling onto his back with a grunt. A moment later, another man landed hard, groaning as he struggled to push himself up.

Daniel shoved himself onto his hands and knees, forcing air back into his lungs.

Above them, hoofbeats thundered against the earth.

The riders had caught up.

He barely had time to register the sound before an arrow buried itself into the dirt inches from his hand.

"Move!" he shouted.

The others scrambled to their feet.

A second arrow whistled past, striking a tree nearby. The guards weren't taking random shots—they were aiming.

Daniel pushed forward, ignoring the throbbing pain in his ribs. The trees were their only cover now. If they made it through the valley, maybe they could lose them in the terrain.

Another horse screamed. A rider cursed.

Daniel risked a glance back.

The slope had forced some of the riders to slow, their horses struggling to navigate the uneven ground. One had dismounted, bow in hand, already nocking another arrow.

No time.

His grip tightened around the dagger.

He could run.

Or he could fight.

The guard drew his bowstring back.

Daniel didn't think—he moved.

He lunged forward, closing the distance between them before the guard could react. The man turned, eyes widening, but Daniel was already too close.

The dagger slammed into his throat.

A wet gurgle. A spurt of warmth against Daniel's hand. Then the man collapsed, his bow slipping from his grip.

A moment of stillness.

Then a shout—another guard had seen.

Daniel snatched up the fallen bow and ran.

Rask was already ahead, pulling another of the prisoners forward. The others had disappeared into the trees.

Daniel pushed himself harder, his breath ragged.

The ground leveled out, the valley widening into a stretch of dense woodland. The sounds of the riders faded behind them, but they wouldn't stop. Not yet.

They had killed a guard.

Now, it was a hunt.

---

They didn't stop running until the sun had fully risen.

Daniel's legs ached, his lungs raw from the effort. The bow was still clutched in his hand, the dagger slick with drying blood tucked back under his sleeve.

They had lost the riders—for now.

The remaining escapees gathered near a narrow stream, their bodies slumped with exhaustion.

Only five of them had made it.

Daniel counted twice to be sure.

Rask. The younger man who had tripped earlier. The wiry one with thinning hair. A fourth—a woman. He hadn't even noticed her before, her frame hidden beneath ragged clothing.

The fifth was a man he didn't recognize, his face pale, his hands shaking.

No one spoke for a long time.

Then Rask exhaled sharply.

"Well," he muttered, "that went to shit fast."

Daniel ran a hand through his hair, pushing damp strands out of his face.

"They'll be looking for us," the woman said quietly.

Daniel nodded.

They weren't safe. Not yet.

But they were free.

And for now, that was enough.

—

The stream was shallow, its surface disturbed only by the occasional ripple as water ran over the smooth stones beneath. The cold had settled in Daniel's skin, his fingers stiff as he dipped his hands into the water, rubbing the grime and dried blood from his palms.

It was only when the ripples calmed that he saw it.

A face that wasn't his own.

For a long moment, he simply stared, barely breathing.

The reflection looking back at him was... familiar in shape but wrong in detail. The jaw was sharper, the cheekbones more defined. His nose was straight, slightly narrow at the bridge. His hair, still damp with sweat and filth, was a deep brown—almost black in the morning light.

His eyes were the biggest change.

They weren't the same color he remembered. Instead of hazel, they were a cool, stormy gray.

Northern features.

He swallowed, his throat dry.

'This isn't just some body swap. I've been remade.'

It should've sent him into another spiral. He should've panicked, should've felt some kind of fear at losing his old face, his old identity.

But instead, something settled in his chest.

A certainty.

His name—his real name—had no place here.

That life was gone.

This was who he was now.

Daniel exhaled slowly, sending another ripple through the water before looking away.

Behind him, the others were gathered near the bank, exhaustion settling into their bones now that the adrenaline had worn off. Rask had taken a seat on a fallen log, stretching his legs, while the others simply stood, shifting restlessly.

The young man—Jace, as he had introduced himself between gasping breaths during their escape—was rubbing at his raw wrists, wincing slightly.

"Where do we go now?" he asked, voice hoarse.

Daniel took a moment to think.

"We head south," he said.

Rask grunted. "South? The fuck for? Closest thing to civilization up here is the Dreadfort, and I don't plan on walking into the Bastard of Bolton's lap."

Daniel shook his head. "Not that far south. We need to find a village, somewhere we can rest. Get food, weapons—something. We're not going to last long out here with nothing."

The older man with thinning hair—Kain, he'd called himself—crossed his arms. "And what happens when the Watch sends men after us? You think they'll just let a group of convicts disappear into the countryside?"

Daniel met his gaze evenly.

"They're not going to waste resources hunting us forever. A few days, maybe. A week, if they're stubborn. But eventually, they'll assume we're dead, either from the cold or from the Bastard's men picking us off. The Wall doesn't have time to chase down every runaway."

Jace let out a breath. "And if we get caught?"

Daniel didn't answer. He didn't need to. They all knew what would happen if the Watch found them.

The silence stretched for a moment before Rask rolled his shoulders with a grunt. "Fine. South it is."

That was the closest thing to agreement they were going to get.

---

They walked for hours, moving deeper into the woods.

The trees grew taller here, thick and old, their trunks covered in moss. The ground was damp, but the canopy above shielded them from the worst of the wind. It wasn't warm, but it was better than the open plains.

Daniel kept an eye on the sky. The sun was climbing now, though it was still weak behind the gray clouds. If they were lucky, they'd find a river or a game trail leading to a settlement before nightfall.

If not…

They'd have to make camp.

He glanced at the others.

Rask moved easily, his pace steady. He had the bearing of a man who had spent time in places like this before, comfortable with the wilds.

Jace, on the other hand, was struggling. He wasn't weak, but he lacked endurance. His steps were heavier, his breathing slightly off-rhythm. He wasn't built for long marches.

Kain walked beside the woman—Lena, as she had finally introduced herself—speaking in low tones. Daniel caught fragments of their conversation.

"…not going to last long without food…"

"…still don't trust him…"

He ignored it. They didn't need to trust him. They just needed to listen.

---

By late afternoon, they found a set of old tracks.

Deep ruts in the earth, partially covered by frost. Not recent, but not ancient either. Someone had passed through here, maybe a week ago.

A cart, most likely. That meant a village or an outpost nearby.

Daniel ran a hand over the disturbed earth. "We follow this."

Jace let out a breath, relieved. "Finally. I was starting to think we'd be stuck eating bark."

Lena glanced at him. "You ever eat bark before?"

"No," Jace admitted. "But I'd rather not start now."

Rask smirked. "Poor lad. You've never been hungry enough, then."

The mood lightened slightly as they walked.

Even Daniel felt a flicker of relief.

They weren't safe. Not by a long shot.

But for the first time since their escape, they had a direction.

---

By nightfall, the road curved, sloping downward toward a small valley.

Daniel saw the faint glow of torchlight in the distance.

A village.

Small, from the looks of it—maybe a dozen buildings, no more. He could see smoke rising from a few chimneys, the flicker of lanterns swaying outside wooden doors.

It was quiet. Not a bustling town, not a trade hub.

A farming village.

A place where people didn't ask questions as long as strangers had coin or labor to offer.

Daniel exhaled slowly.

"Looks like we found what we were looking for."

Rask cracked his knuckles. "So, what's the plan, then? We just walk in and hope no one recognizes us?"

Daniel studied the village carefully.

"No. We go in small groups. Two at a time. We don't know if the Watch sent word ahead yet. We don't know if there are any Boltons here."

Jace frowned. "And if there are?"

Daniel's expression didn't change.

"Then we leave. Quietly."

He wasn't going to risk staying if this place was unfriendly.

Kain rubbed his hands together. "And what exactly are we looking for?"

Daniel met his gaze.

"Food. Clothes. Information."

If they were lucky, the villagers wouldn't care who they were.

If they weren't…

Well.

They'd deal with that when it came.

For now, they had reached the first real step toward survival.

And Daniel wasn't about to waste it.