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***

Just like Torrhen had predicted, there would be no peace for him or his Pack from now on. A hawk had come bearing dark news; the purpose with which the Hawks were assigned when he gave it to his Pack to send word to him.

Jax had sent the Hawk just after he had crossed the Trident. He stayed low as he was told and followed Torrhen’s Mother and her two companions, from a distance, to guard her from any complication that may have arisen on the way to home. It seems they had found trouble at the Inn at the Crossroads, this was the second time trouble was found in a single place for the Starks; was the place cursed?

His mother had sought room and food for the night at the Inn after getting tired of the travel. All seemed well until it was dinner when Tyrion Lannister entered the Inn, and found the Lady Catelyn Stark hiding in a place where she was not supposed to be.

His mother with her intelligence bought enough time for Torrhen to prepare for any aggression from the Lannisters in King’s Landing as well as the true purpose of why she had come and gone from King’s Landing in secret. She had kidnapped Tyrion with the help of her father’s Lord Hoster Tully’s vassal banner men and a bunch of sells swords, and announced to the men and women at the Inn that he was to be tried for his crimes at Winterfell.

Only she took Tyrion to the Vale to be tried in her Sister, Aunt Lysa Arryn’s court in the Eyrie of the Vale. Whether Tyrion had tried to kill his Brother Bran or not, Torrhen will know now because, Jax pretended to be a sell-sword and got into Catelyn’s band.

Jax would earn Tyrion’s trust and get into his good will and manipulate the truth from him.

The travel would have been perilous going through the Mountain road, with shadow cats and wild mountain clansmen roaming and pillaging. Torrhen would have been worried for his mother if not for the two members of his Pack accompanying her, Bennard the Septon and Jax.

After receiving the Hawk, Torrhen had told Cleyton to hire men to protect the Pack and the Starks in King’s Landing. When news of his brother’s arrest will come to the capital, Ser Jamie Lannister would incite violence, there were reports that the two brothers had a good relationship as brothers. And the Lannisters outnumbered the Stark men.

His Father and Sisters were to be under increased guards at all times. With extra men present in the Pack’s mansion as well as the Hand’s Tower. Cleyton would hire some of the trusted men the Pack had helped to hire as guards and as agents to work undercover to help in matters of intrigue that they had missed.

Staying in King’s Landing now seemed unsafe, Torrhen would have to persuade his father to leave for Winterfell or at least send Sansa and Arya until things cool down and peace has been attained between the Lannisters and Starks.

***

Torrhen tried to keep his emotions in check as he let Cleyton put his black armor on him. He would face the Mountain in the Semi-finals, with Ser Jamie and Sandor Clegane going against each other.

The Direwolves were locked in the mansion with Alys, with the turmoil of emotions in Torrhen it would be a serious miscalculation to let the Direwolves near him.

They could feel the emotions he felt in him when they were near him and they responded to resolve it without a restraint, for they are animals no matter how civilized they were raised. With the rage that was flowing in his veins, they would pounce and attack the rabid dog they called the Mountain without a thought, and as they tore through his skin and feasted upon the rotten flesh, Torrhen would not have the mind to pull them back as he relished finally in the death of the dog.

And only Torrhen could control the Direwolves when they were in their rage, their eyes filled with the wildness of a natural predator hunting for its prey, with great effort. That is, if he himself has not fallen into that wildness along with them.

That was his greatest fear.

When his family looked upon him in his true state.

The darkness that existed deep inside him that he had kept buried with a high restraint, now open for the entire world to see.

Would they see a man or a wild direwolf beast in the skin of a human?

Would his Father Ned, look upon him as his own son or a beast that he should have put down when he was still a child?

Would his mother Catelyn, look upon him and see the child that she had nursed from a sickness that would have killed him when he was a babe, or a dark beast that had taken over her precious child?

Would his siblings look upon their brother with whom they had done mischievous things together as children or will they fear him and wish for him to be not in their presence?

Could Torrhen even live with that weighing upon his shoulders?

Would he ever be normal?

That was what he had desired most when he was a child. To be normal. Be a dutiful son to his father, be a loving son to his mother, be a brother to lean upon for his siblings. But he had abandoned them the moment the opportunity arrived to hide his true self from being found out by them.

And fate seemed to have other things stored for him as it tested his sanity with that never ending headaches and nightmares, he had been facing since he was a child, in increasing frequency as time passed and he grew from the sickly child that he was into a man capable of taking care for himself.

“Peace Torrhen,” Cleyton said. “Expel the dark thoughts you have in your mind.”

“I was thinking about how to defeat the rabid dog thats all,” Torrhen said.

“I know how you think Torrhen, after all the years I have traveled with you, I would be a lousy friend if I didn’t.”

“I would have preferred it if you could not read my mind with a single glance, I would take a lousy friend any day to one who could see me for what I am.”

“And what are you Torrhen? A man who cares deeply for his family and friends. I would sooner look upon your true self and be a friend that is there for you, rather than being shallow and being a lousy friend.”

“Are you getting all old on me like Owen,” Torrhen said with a laugh.

“Do not try to change the conversation,” Cleyton said. “Friends are there for you to lean upon when you don’t want to lean upon your family. They may complain a bit but in the end a true friend would let you lean upon them. And you have many friends that you have made across Westeros and Essos never forget that.”

Torrhen nodded. He checked his armor and Cleyton handed him the Wolf helm. He got out of his tent and checked his Horse.

Looking into the brown eyes of the Horse, he felt calm as he comforted her with a few pats and rubs and fed her a carrot. “Once more we ride together upon the ground as one. I will love you even if we lose okay. Just don’t over exert yourself.”

The horse neighed a response and Torrhen gave a smile.

The rabid dog might play dirty and aim for his horse and that was his fear. The horse had no name. He had stopped naming horses after the third one had died. The grief at losing them was unbearable, it was as though a part of him had died along with them and since then he had no heart to name the horses he rode. Still their deaths hit hard nonetheless.

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Trumpets sounded and it was time for the Joust to begin.

Torrhen checked the Great Valyrian Sword that was sheathed and tied to his Horse. Put on his wolf helm and mounted his horse. Cleyton gave him the lance and shield. Once they were secure in his hands he guided his horse to the lists and place where he started.

The crowd seemed to be in a good mood as they cheered for the Black Wolf. And he showed them that he had heard them as he went round the lists in a gallop clashing the lance against his shield.

He saw that his Father Ned was in the stands today with Sansa. And he gave his father a bow of respect that he had not given the King Robert. Owen was with them as instructed to guard his father for now.

Owen said that the Lord Stark distrusted him and would give him a cold look every now and then but Torrhen requested him to endure it for the time being.

Torrhen gave Sansa a positive nod seeing her fear on her face. Torrhen had given all his personal gold dragons in his purse to her for her to bet on him with the other high born members that he would win against the Mountain and win the Tourney; Father would hate to see his daughter gambling, but Torrhen wanted her to experience the thrill without the fear of her big brother getting hurt hanging over her head and he wanted to take everyones money when they bet against him (It was not a small amount that he had given Sansa, he gave her all the personal money he had kept for himself that he had earned in his travels and with that he would wipe the others earnings clean.).

In the morning, she had come to him expressing her fear that he would get hurt like the Vale knight that had died against the Mountain the previous day.

Torrhen smiled reassuringly and gave a kiss to his sweet sister’s forehead and assured her that nothing would happen to him as he said: “Sansa, when the Joust begins, I want you to stand up and announce to all the high born that you would match any amount in a bet on behalf of Torrhen Stark against me. Remember bet on the side that I would win against the Mountain and the Tourney Joust.”

Arya was not allowed to participate by Father as she was still young. And Torrhen agreed with him as he wanted to protect her childhood from the violence that existed in the real world. The death of the Butcher’s boy had affected her so much already. And as he was leaving after breakfast, Arya had asked him to hurt Sandor Clegane if Torrhen went against him.

As he took his place, the Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane appeared on a wild stallion that was able to carry his enormous body with great effort as he kept the stallion under control with a tight leash on the reins on the other side of the lists.

Looking at the man, all the calmness in him had gone like a storm had blew them away. The crowd disappeared and with them their noises. The reports he had heard about the Mountain flashed in his mind unbidden; rapes, torture and murders to countless innocents, to both smallfolk and highborn, a babe or a grown man treated the same as he drove them to their deaths.

A dark voice whispered in him to put that rabid dog down. Tear his throat out and end the misery that his victims faced whenever they meet him in a wrong place at the wrong time.

The rabid dog should have been put down a long time ago, but he would not stray from his lair. So Torrhen could not put him down before.

That familiar pounding headache appeared again and his horse neighed in nervousness. He calmed the horse but he found it difficult to calm his mind as the ache tried to shatter his mind into a million pieces.

This is your chance to put him down, the voice whispered. Enticing him to throw the Lance away, grab Ice and separate the rabid dog’s head from his body.

With great focus he removed that enticing idea from his head and couched his lance and readied the shield as the King called for the Joust to start.

Torrhen could feel the Stallion’s restlessness. Horses that were not gelded were hard to control and he gave a slight push to the Stallion in that direction, to follow its nature to be wild as it started its gallop.

Torrhen urged his own horse to go into a gallop. In seconds, he was racing the wind as they picked up speed and with every step neared the center where the Lances would meet.

The pain in his head was dangerously distracting him from the joust now. A mistake would cost him his life in a joust against a beast such as the Mountain.

So with a wild roar in his helm he tried to push against whatever that was happening in his head.

A great sense of clarity and focus cleared his mind for the seconds that would matter as he faced the rabid dog coming upon him.

But time seemed to slow and with a greater sense of clarity Torrhen could feel the minds of the horse that he was riding upon, the Stallion that was racing towards him, his hawk from Jax circling the sky above the tourney grounds, Winter and Lady locked far in their room in the manse. Nymeria as she hunted in the Riverlands. Summer, Grey Wind and Shaggydog in Winterfell and Ghost at the Wall with the two other hawks flying in the Northern air.

He could see what they saw as they walked on their four legs, breath the smells they breathed with their snouts, feel the wind as they flew and many a familiar faces appeared to him.

He could see his brother Bran awake in the eyes of Summer, Robb and Winterfell with Grey Wind’s eyes. Jon and Will through Ghost’s eyes. Alys through Winter’s and Lady’s. The North from the Sky. The tourney grounds from the Sky.

And the mountain riding on his stallion through his horses eyes as he aimed his lance, and a man in wolfs armor distracted, in the Stallion’s eyes.

With a sudden realization he sensed where he was, two seconds away from meeting the Mountain’s lance.

With great speed, he aimed his lance to the center of that enormous body and his shield to glance away his opponents lance. But that would not be enough so he concentrated on the Horses and gave a greater nudge to follow his wish, his horse sidestepped at the last crucial moment and the Stallion grew even more restless as it neared Torrhen’s horse.

The Mountain’s lance splintered as it hammered into the Wolf crested shield and pushed against Torrhen’s balance on his horse. His own lance had made contact and splintered against the Mountain’s body but he had no time to see whether it had knocked him out or not, as he wrestled to keep himself seated on his horse.

All he could hear was the crowd’s mad thundering applause. As he removed his helm and held it in his hand, he looked at the Lords and Ladies standing up from their seats. He could see his sister and father on their feet with worry written on their faces and joy. The King was on his feet too laughing as he held onto his belly with one hand and the other spilling wine onto people near him and the raucous laughter of the Hound.

His horse helped greatly as she calmed herself as quickly as possible and slowing down so that Torrhen could seat himself properly. That should have knocked him down, if not for his horse and grip.

Torrhen looked upon the Mountain to see him fallen on the ground as his Stallion reared restlessly on its hind legs.

Torrhen could feel the heavy exhaustion that was waiting for him the moment the adrenaline wore off. He could fall into a deep, exhaust comforting sleep right there and then if he let himself. But he kept it at bay knowing that there was another Joust, it would seem like he was weak if he fell in exhaustion right after a single Joust.

And the things that he had seen and felt in his mind to the leading moment as their lances connected, that he tucked it away for now. His mind was too exhausted to even think about it.

The headache seemed to be returning with a greater strength and intensity amplified from the crowd’s deafening noise as they went mad for him. It was a wonder that he could keep himself awake and conscious with that hammering in his head and the exhaustion that strained his body.

Torrhen’s mind was fighting the exhaustion to remain alert as he sensed that the match was not over yet. And he was right as he saw the Mountain rise.

In the middle of the field, the rabid dog disentangled himself and came boiling to his feet. He wrenched off his helm and slammed it down onto the ground. His face was dark with fury and his hair fell down into his eyes. “My sword,” he shouted to his squire, and the boy ran it out to him. By then his stallion was back on its feet as well.

Gregor Clegane killed the horse with a single blow of such ferocity that it half severed the animal’s neck. Cheers turned to shrieks in a heartbeat and Torrhen could feel the life go from the Stallion as it went to its knees, screaming as it died.

By then the Rabid Dog was striding down the lists towards Torrhen, his bloody sword clutched in his fist.

“Stop him!” His father Ned shouted with fear for his son along with Owen, but his words were lost in the roar. Everyone else was yelling as well, and Sansa was crying and for some reason Torrhen could hear his family over the yelling of the others.

Torrhen was no hero like the crowd treated him as the Black Wolf.

He was a stone cold killer, capable of taking the life out of a body without a second thought.

That he had known since he was a child when he took his first life of a wildling raider from beyond the wall when he had gone along with his father.

Since then he had tried hard to keep that darkness in him out of sight of his family, even running away from home.

But hearing and feeling the distress and fear in his father, his sister Sansa and his friends in the Pack, and the Stallion that was now dead, it unraveled his mind and his control on his emotions even more.

He felt the darkness let loose in him as it engulfed him. Setting his blood to a boil and letting the rage fill his mind without any restraint to hold it back.

Torrhen was a killer and he knew what the Mountain would do. So after he had killed his Stallion and advanced upon Torrhen.

Torrhen was ready for the Mountain, with his helm and shield discarded, and dismounted from the horse, his great sword already unsheathed and sending his horse away from the fight.

Standing on his feet holding Ice, the ancestral Valyrian Great Sword, with his two hands, he bought it up to meet the Rabid Dog’s blow from his great sword.

And at that moment the Darkness in him was truly unleashed with nothing to hold it back and for all the world and his loved ones to see upon his true hidden dark nature.

A Wild Beast more dangerous than the Direwolves of the Wild.

The moment the two swords clashed, a Hawk screeched in fury in the sky above them, his Horse was neighing and stamping the ground with its hooves restlessly as it reared.

Winter and Lady howled and growled and snapped as Winter clawed the oak door into splinters to let them out to reach Torrhen.

The Beast was out of its cage now.

Torrhen tried.

But the Beast was out of its cage, for the World to see his endless wild rage, wrath and fury.

****

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