“What could go wrong” Re-written!

      (RE-WRITEN)

It had been a day like any other, it must have been for I remember no dark clouds nor do I remember the servants whispers of a coming storm that always fill the hall in Winterfell before the next summer snow. So I conclude, that it must have been a perfectly average day, the occasional cloud perhaps, but still quite normal. However when I think about the day that forever changed my life I cannot picture the sun. I cannot picture the white clouds gliding across the windswept blue sky. I cannot even truly picture the colours of that day. I cannot remember the green of the leaves, nor the brown underbrush on the forrest floor. I cannot remember the snapping sound of broken twigs underneath our feet, not the soft padding of Ghost by my side, not the chirping of the forrest creatures that were surely there. I remember so few details of that day, yet I cannot forget it. It was the day my life changed. It was the day the Gods tore up my happy life and laughed at my despair. It was a perfectly normal day...Or so it seemed to my brother when he insisted we go for a hunt.

"What could go wrong?" That was the argument that convinced me. Those four words changed my life and I rue them still to this day.

Robb and I were just six name days and to our young foolish minds it had seemed like a great idea. The plan had been to sneak out, go into the Wolfwood and simply kill a rabbit or two. Robb said he wanted a story to tell our father when he returned from fighting in the Greyjoy Rebellion. The thought of our father giving me one of his rare, proud smiles had me dragging Robb out the gates, small bows in hand.

Lord Eddard Stark was not a bad father, he loved all of his children deeply, even me. Even his bastard. But in my youth it was rare for me to get a purely proud smile from the man, not that he was not proud of me but rather all his glances towards me seemed tinged with sadness. So it was with thoughts of a proud father that Robb and I snuck out of Winterfell, with small bows and long knives. We were children, excited children because we were going on an adventure. We were going into the wild to kill a beast like a hero from a story with two direwolves at our feet. So we happily marched off to adventure.....and we immediately got lost.

It had started well enough. We found a giant stag, almost the size of a horse. it was a majestic thing, truly majestic, the type of beast we had dreamed about. Robb and I did not even exchange a glance. We both unstrung our bows, nocked our arrows then found, quite suddenly, that it takes a tremendous amount strength to draw back bowstring. Robb barely moved an inch and his arrow dropped limply to the floor. My bow had an entirely different issue. I drew back the string with all my strength and I found out that the bow I had chosen in our excitement was not, in fact, in good condition. For the string snapped and the nocked arrow spun rapidly out of control into the shrubs on my left.

We continue on, my embarrassing bow on my back while Robb continuously attempted to draw back the bowstring. Eventually we came to the conclusion that our stomping about had scared off all the wildlife, and with the threat of lurking wolves, we decided to return to Winterfell and not tell anyone about our failed outing. It was then we came to another revelation. We were lost. Me and Robb had wandered carelessly into the woods, renowned for its predators, and now we were lost. Robb glanced around nervously, straining to hear the sound of wolves. We both cast a searching look to our Direwolf companions because we knew they would sense danger long before we did.

At this point my memory of this day becomes blurry again. I know me and Robb both turned suddenly, I know there must have been a sound to alert us, or else Greywind or Ghost had sensed the approaching figure and had warned us. It does not matter which had truly occurred, all we need to know is that Robb and I turned, fear seizing us. My hand was shaking, there was a tense muscle in my thigh and my stomach was doing flips. Ghost was snarling now, and it was his usual silent snarl. I remember noticing that Ghost was looking in an entirely different direction to where the shadowed figure came from, in the moment I dismissed the strange occurrence as fear surged through me however for years following this day I would think of it. I would think how my life could have changed if only I had trusted Ghost.

"Mi'lord?" The voice was instantly recognisable to my younger self though today I cannot conjure the sound. The fear fell away suddenly as we saw the mans face. He was a guard named Walder and his family had been in service to Winterfell for three generations.

"Come Mi'lord, we need to get you and Snow home before the Lady Stark has our heads." Walder smiled happily at us and we smiled back.

Four more Stark guardsmen emerged from the trees behind him and the relief that spread across Robb's face also surged in my heart. These men each knew the Wolfwood like the back of their hand and we would be home before the hour was done. My shoulders sagged as the tension of the moment melted away. I went to sheath my hunting knife, that I cannot remember ever pulling from my belt. I never did put the sharp blade away as I was distracted. Robb was also, because our Wolves were still snarling, the pups had been raised these last few weeks inside Winterfell and while they might not've known all the guards the beasts were smart enough to associate the sigil of House Stark with safety.

Neither of us had any chance to ponder their strange behaviour as our thoughts were once again interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a bowstring. An arrow burst through Walder's mail coat and he lurched backwards but remained on his feet. Two of the other four guards had also been shot. The man closest to Walder collapsed and he had two arrows in his stomach, another in his chest and what looked like a crossbow bolt in his thigh. The second guard had a more merciful fate, he died quickly with an arrow through his eye socket. 

By then the confusion was beginning to leave as I pieced together the beginnings of what was happening. Robb acted slower, he just stared forward with a dazed look at the carnage unfolding. Greywind was growling at the countless figures emerging from the trees all around us and Walder was staggering forward to grab Robb's hand.

There were still two guards alive, one drew his longsword and faced down the closest man to him. They fought for only a short time before a second man joined then a third and the Stark guard was overwhelmed. The final man hurried after Walder towards Robb. I tried to follow but tripped on a fallen tree branch and my knife tumbled from my grasp, then a shadow of a man fell over me. The man had a face that I cannot remember, I do not know if he had a beard or if he had any hair. What I do remember however is the stench of sour ale on his breath and his eyes, I remember the look of greed. I remember how that greed turned to pain and anger when a white blur leapt at his arm, an arm that was clutching a bloody axe.

I remember the instinct surge within me as I groped the underbrush for the hilt of my razor sharp hunting knife. I had never felt so much fear in my life, but with fear comes adrenaline. There was joy in my soul. It was the darkest moment of my life, men I had grown up around had just been killed, another man stood before me and he no doubt wanted to kill me. But despite it all I grinned because the Gods had made me for one reason and it was that moment I discovered what that reason was. I was made to fight and kill and rage. I leapt up to the man, who had thrown off Ghost but had dropped his axe.

His eyes. That day is so blurry in my mind but I remember his eyes. So full of fear and pain and anger and scorn. Fear. Not of Ghost, not of the guards, not of my fathers wrath. He feared me, I was six name days and he feared me. I found myself unable to look away from his eyes as I brought my knife up and thrust. Three stabs in his belly, it didn't kill him but it made his eyes widen with a panicked frenzy. I would come to know that look well throughout the years but that is the first I ever saw it.

That was the look of prey, the stare of a hare that knew the hound had caught its sent. Me? I basked in that look without truly knowing what it meant. I brought the knife up again and I thrust it into his chest where it ground on his ribs and punctured a lung. I was surprised at how much strength it took to pierce a man, and even more surprised by how easily I could do it.

There was a brightness to the mans eyes, a vibrant lively brightness. It was the bright light that came before the dim of death. and I dimmed the eyes with a grin. Up my knife went, up, up, up. It took a strong thrust to pierce his throat and I lacked to strength to hold him still as he thrashed. I attempted to wrench the blade free from the mans throat but he twisted away. I reached up again and grasped the bloody handle, this time I pulled it free.The only colour I can picture when I think about this life changing day is the bright red spurt of the mans blood. It was a crimson spray that was seared into my memory. Red like Weirwood sap. Red like Ghosts eyes. It was the shade of red that means death. I loved it. I craved it.

The dying man continued to twitch but I ignored him because more and more people were approaching. I could see Walder dead with a spear in his back, but there was no sign of Robb or the final guard and that was good news for it meant they may have escaped. Ghost was being restrained in the corner of my eye and although it pained me, I could not help him. 

Two men were reaching out for me and I was cutting and being turned around and I was covered in blood and they were covered in blood and I had killed someone and they were angry and my blade cut a mans hip bone. He was enraged and battered me with the base of his axe and there was blood in my eye now from the cut he opened at my eyebrow so I cut and thrashed at him one eyed and he was snarling and it was chaos.

It was chaos. Such glorious chaos.

A thump to my head sent me sprawling to the floor  and caused my vision to dim, Ghost was muzzled and I was being tied up but Robb was gone. Robb had escaped. I had been captured and Robb had escaped and that, I decided as my world dimmed, was enough.

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 (ORIGINAL --- NOT GOOD)

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(Authors notes)

This is my first attempt of writing something so please forgive me it is going to be terrible. Also I'm dislaxic so there will be spelling errors.

Also I don't own asoiaf or Game of thrones because if I did session 8 wouldn't be the shit show that it was.

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(POV Jon snow)

'What could go wrong he said'

'We'll just sneak out and kill a rabbit or two and then we'll have stories to tell father when he comes home' Thats what Robb had said to him and the thought of finally having something to connect with his somewhat distant father had been what had ultimately made him agree.

But now they where lost in the wolfswood with Winterfell in who knows what direction with a small rabbit and broken bow all they had to show for their journey.

And no doubt it will be him that the old trout would blame. 'Well at least it isn't too col…'

"Snap"

Me and Robb turned around he grabbed his small but still working bow while I grabbed my small hunting knife.

We where ready to face what ever came through the bushes Ghost and Greywind both snarled though Greywind was the only one to make a sound.

I could hear the foot steps getting closer the where in the shadows so I couldn't make out any features

I crouched low and prepared to pounce on the attacker

"Milord is that you"

"Gregor is that you" Came Robbs joyed response

"Aye milord let's get you and Snow back before your mother has our heads"

Just after he finished his sentence I heard the unmistakable sound of arrows being shot through the air followed by the sounds of three of the four stark guards that followed Gregor choking on there own blood as they fall to the ground with a thud. The fourth guard quickly following as he was run through by a sword.

With my hunting knife still in my hands and ghost still at my side I acted on instinct and jumped towards the nearest of the attackers trying to stab him only to be thrown to the floor.

The man I just tried to stab hit me with the hilt of his sword as I tried to get up causing blood to fall over my eye from a cut above my eyebrow he must have caused.

I looked over to where Robb and Gregor where only to find Gregor running to his horse with Robb over his shoulder although I suppose it makes sense Robb is the heir to Winterfell and he was just the lords bastard but if he was going to die then he was going to make time for Robb to escape.

Just as he finished that thought Ghost pounced on the man who had hit him and bit his arm. Not wanting to waste the chance his direwolf had given him he leaps for his hunting knife and stabs it as hard as he can into the man's ugly face.

He turns around ready to fight another one only to get hit in the face by the blunt end of an axe and as the world goes blurry he sees Ghost being restrained then the world goes black.