ASOIAF/GOT: The King in Black

The tavern smelled of stale ale, old wood, and something faintly burnt. The room was dimly lit, the glow of candles flickering against soot-darkened beams. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, its embers glowing dull red, but the warmth barely reached past the nearest tables.

Daniel stepped inside first, keeping his hood low, Rask following a few steps behind. The tavern wasn't crowded—only a handful of men occupied the room, their voices low, their movements slow with exhaustion. Farmers, most likely. Maybe a trader or two. A single serving girl moved between them, her apron stained, her hair pulled back loosely.

No soldiers. No banners.

That was a good sign.

Still, Daniel didn't relax.

He moved toward the counter, where the innkeeper stood cleaning a wooden mug with a rag that had long since turned gray. The man was thick-bodied, with broad shoulders and a beard peppered with streaks of white. His eyes flicked toward them as they approached, sharp and assessing.

"New faces," he muttered. Not quite a question.

Daniel let his shoulders settle, his stance easy but purposeful. "Passing through."

The innkeeper set the mug down. "South or north?"

Daniel didn't hesitate. "South."

A short nod. "Ale?"

Daniel inclined his head, watching as the man filled two cups from a clay pitcher. The liquid was dark, slightly frothy at the top. Rask took his without a word, lifting it to his lips, while Daniel let the first sip sit on his tongue before swallowing. Watered down. Cheap, but not the worst he'd tasted.

The innkeeper watched them for a moment before speaking again. "Roads aren't safe these days."

Daniel met his gaze. "Are they ever?"

The man let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Fair enough."

Daniel took another slow sip. Let the pause stretch. Then he set the cup down.

"Heard of any trouble nearby?"

The innkeeper scratched at his beard. "Depends on what you mean by trouble."

Daniel shrugged. "Bandits. Soldiers. Anything that might make the road ahead difficult."

The man exhaled through his nose. "Well, you're headed the right way, at least. North's been restless. More Wildlings moving. More rangers heading out and not coming back."

Daniel's fingers curled slightly around the cup.

That fit. If Jeor Mormont was still alive, that meant the Night's Watch was already dealing with the growing Wildling threat. Mance Rayder's army was forming, even if common folk didn't know his name yet.

The innkeeper continued, oblivious to Daniel's thoughts. "Some folks say the Wildlings are running from something. No one knows what, but whatever's pushing them south, it's bad enough that they're risking the Wall to get away."

Daniel kept his expression neutral.

If only they knew.

Rask leaned against the counter. "And the lords? Who's making trouble in the South?"

The innkeeper smirked, rubbing his jaw. "That depends on your loyalties."

"We have none," Daniel said.

The man grunted, seemingly satisfied with that answer. "Then you'll be fine. For now. The North is quiet, but not for long. With the King in the capital and Lord Stark gone with him, Winterfell's been keeping busy. Some say the Lannisters are circling, waiting for a chance to sink their claws into the Starks. Others say the Greyjoys are stirring, but I don't put much stock in that."

Daniel filed the information away. Eddard Stark was still alive, still playing Hand of the King in King's Landing. That meant war hadn't begun yet, but tensions were already simmering.

More importantly, if Winterfell was left without its lord, then it meant Roose Bolton was still pretending to be loyal.

That gave them options.

Rask tilted his head. "And the roads? Any banners we should be worried about?"

The innkeeper leaned on the counter. "Depends where you're headed."

"We're looking for work," Daniel said easily. "Preferably where it's quiet."

The man nodded. "Then you'll want to avoid the Dreadfort. Bolton's men don't take kindly to strangers, and they're meaner than most."

Daniel expected that much.

"What about the Karstarks?"

"They keep to their own," the innkeeper said. "Won't bother you unless you give them reason. Umbers are the same way, though they've been keeping an eye on their lands more closely lately."

That was enough.

If the Karstarks and Umbers weren't actively looking for deserters, then their land was the safest path south.

Daniel drained the rest of his ale and set the cup down. "Appreciate the drink."

The innkeeper nodded once. "Safe travels, stranger."

Daniel turned, motioning for Rask to follow.

They had what they needed.

Time to leave.

---

The night air was sharp as they stepped outside, the village streets quieter than before. Most of the houses had gone dark, save for the faint glow of lanterns swaying in the cold wind.

Rask adjusted the weight of the food sack over his shoulder. "Well, that was easy."

Daniel didn't answer immediately.

They were safe for now, but if people were already whispering about the Wildlings moving, it meant the Night's Watch was on edge. And if the Watch was on edge, it wouldn't be long before someone came looking for them.

They needed to move.

Rask must have noticed the shift in his expression, because his smirk faded slightly. "What's the plan?"

Daniel glanced toward the barn where the others were waiting. "We leave before dawn."

Rask nodded. "South?"

"Through Karstark land. It's our best chance."

The big man exhaled, cracking his knuckles. "Fine by me."

They walked in silence the rest of the way.

---

Inside the barn, the others were waiting.

Lena was perched on a pile of hay, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Kain stood nearby, sharpening his stolen blade with slow, practiced strokes. Jace was half-dozing against the wooden wall but sat up when they entered.

"You get what we needed?" Lena asked.

Daniel set the empty cup down. "The road ahead is clear, but not for long. We need to be gone by first light."

Kain grunted. "You think they'll come looking for us?"

Daniel met his gaze. "Not yet. But they will."

That was enough to get everyone moving.

Lena rose, brushing hay from her sleeves. Jace stretched, still stiff from the long march. Kain sheathed his blade with a quiet nod.

Daniel sat down against the barn wall, letting his body rest, but his mind was still working.

The Wall was behind them.

Now they had to survive the road ahead.

—

Daniel woke before the others.

The barn was quiet, save for the slow, steady breathing of the people around him. The scent of hay and old wood filled the air, mingling with the faintest trace of sweat and damp clothing. He could hear the wind outside, gentle but constant, rustling against the wooden beams.

For a moment, he just lay there, staring up at the dark ceiling. His body ached from the previous days—the long march, the fight, the escape—but pain was a familiar thing now. A background noise, nothing more.

He exhaled slowly, then pushed himself up.

Across the barn, Rask was still asleep, one arm draped over his chest, the other resting on the hilt of his stolen sword. Kain and Lena had curled up near the far wall, wrapped in whatever spare cloth they had managed to scavenge. Jace was barely visible, buried under his cloak, his face hidden beneath the folds.

None of them stirred as Daniel rose to his feet, moving toward the barn door.

The sky was still dark, but hints of gray and deep blue crept along the horizon. Dawn was coming.

Time to move.

He stepped outside, the cold biting against his exposed skin. It wasn't as harsh as the night before, but it was enough to remind him that winter was coming. They didn't have the luxury of staying in one place for too long.

The village was still asleep. No signs of movement, no early risers tending to their work. A few houses had faint glows behind their shutters, but no one had stepped outside yet.

Good.

They needed to be gone before the village woke.

Daniel turned back to the barn, stepping inside. He nudged Rask first.

The big man grumbled, stirring slightly before cracking one eye open. "That time already?"

"Yeah," Daniel muttered. "Wake the others."

Rask groaned but obeyed, sitting up and stretching before moving to rouse the rest.

Lena was the first to wake fully, blinking away sleep before rising to her feet in a fluid motion. Kain followed soon after, his movements stiff but efficient.

Jace took the longest, mumbling something unintelligible before groggily pulling himself upright.

"We moving?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

Daniel nodded. "Now."

---

They slipped out of the village before first light.

The road was quiet, the air thick with the stillness of early morning. Frost clung to the grass, crunching softly beneath their boots.

No one spoke.

The night had been mercifully uneventful, but Daniel could feel the tension in the group—a shared understanding that they were far from safe. The longer they stayed in one place, the more dangerous things would become.

They followed a narrow trail leading west, away from the main road. If anyone asked about them in the village, they wanted to make sure they weren't easy to track.

Rask walked beside Daniel, his hands resting on his belt. "Think anyone noticed we were there?"

Daniel exhaled. "If they did, they didn't care enough to stop us."

Rask chuckled. "Lucky us."

Lucky wasn't the word Daniel would have used.

They had moved fast, kept quiet, avoided drawing attention. That wasn't luck. That was survival.

But luck wouldn't hold forever.

---

By midday, they had reached the outskirts of a forest.

The trees were taller here, their trunks thick, the canopy above blocking out most of the sky. The path was rough but navigable, a mixture of dirt and fallen leaves, damp from morning frost.

Daniel took a moment to assess their surroundings.

"We camp here for a bit," he said. "Eat, rest. Then we keep moving."

No one argued. They were all tired, and even a short break was better than nothing.

They settled near a fallen log, pulling out what little food they had managed to take from the village—dried meat, hard bread, a few small apples.

It wasn't much, but it would keep them going.

Jace chewed on a piece of bread, grimacing slightly. "This tastes like dirt."

Lena smirked. "Probably is."

Rask grinned, tearing off a chunk of dried meat with his teeth. "Better than starving."

Daniel leaned against the log, taking small bites of his own food. He wasn't eating for pleasure. He was eating for fuel.

His eyes scanned the forest, his mind still working through the next steps.

The Karstarks and Umbers were their safest route south, but that didn't mean they could just walk onto their lands without a plan.

They needed a cover story.

Something believable.

"We need a reason for being out here," he muttered.

Kain glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"If we run into anyone, we need a story. Something that makes sense. Travelers looking for work. Sellswords moving south. Anything but what we really are."

Jace frowned. "And if they don't believe us?"

Daniel's expression didn't change. "Then we make them."

Rask smirked. "I like the way you think."

---

They rested for an hour before moving again.

The forest stretched farther than Daniel expected, the trees growing denser as they pushed forward. The path was winding, uneven, the underbrush thick with roots and fallen branches.

The air was quieter here, muffled by the trees. Even the wind had softened, the occasional rustling of leaves the only sound aside from their own footsteps.

They were deep enough now that tracking them would be difficult.

That was both a blessing and a danger.

If they were found, there would be no easy escape.

Daniel adjusted the strap of his stolen satchel, shifting its weight against his shoulder. The blade at his hip was comforting, but he knew better than to think steel alone would keep them safe.

"How much farther until we reach Karstark land?" Jace asked.

Kain glanced at the sky, judging their progress. "Few days, maybe less if we keep this pace."

That wasn't bad.

If they could avoid trouble for another two or three days, they'd be past the worst of it.

Daniel just hoped their luck would hold.

Because in Westeros, luck always ran out.