INT. CARGO CHAMBER – KARTIGA'S SHIP – NIGHT
The room is wide, dark, and empty—save for the sound of fists meeting flesh and the echo of heavy breathing.
Kartiga and Kai circle each other barefoot on the wooden floor. Their shirts are off, skin slick with sweat, bruises already blooming.
Kai moves fast. A low kick—Kartiga blocks it with his shin. A punch—caught. A feint—missed.
Then a hit lands.
THUD.Kartiga stumbles back, grunting, one hand on his side. He winces.
Kai steps in quickly, hands out to steady him. "My Lord?"
Kartiga waves him off, but his face shows pain.
Kai chuckles lightly, then helps him stand. "What's gotten into you, my Lord?" he asks, curiosity peeking through. "I begged you to train for weeks. You kept saying tomorrow. Now look at you."
Kartiga lets out a breathy laugh and tries to shake it off. "I just felt like it.".
But his eyes were distant. Like his thoughts were somewhere else, far from this ship.
Kai stood still, watching him. Expectant. Silent.
After a moment, Kartiga let out a slow breath and spoke, voice low. "Kai… I don't know how long I've been here. I stopped counting. Days… weeks… maybe a year. I only wanted one thing—go back. That was all. I didn't care about anything else."
He grabbed a towel, wiped his face, then sat down on the edge of a crate.
He stared at the wooden floor. "Until her."
Kai leaned in slightly. "Daenerys?"
Kartiga nodded as his thought gone back to her.
Kartiga nodded slowly.
He looked up, his gaze distant—seeing something not in the room.
"I said sorry to her," he said after a moment. "For the man who tried to protect her.".
Kai said nothing.
Kartiga took a breath, his tone turning just slightly amused, like he was laughing at something no one else could see.
"And the funniest part?"
Kai raised an eyebrow.
"That man… he was a spy," Kartiga said with a short scoff. "Sent by her enemies to watch her brother. Probably to report every word her brother said, every move her brother made."
His voice dipped into sarcasm. "And he died trying to save her."
He shook his head slowly.
"I told her that. Thought she'd cry. Maybe doubt herself."
He looked up again, and the image burned in his memory.
"She didn't."
Her voice had been soft, almost childlike at first, her eyes shining with something deeper than fear:"He rescued me from fear."
Then stronger, sharp as steel, her silver hair whipped by the wind:"He is loyal to me—my knight. You have no right to call him a traitor."
Kartiga let out a dry chuckle, remembering her gaze—that stubborn fire, rising from a place of pain and pride both.
"She doesn't even know what she is yet… but she's already standing like a queen."
Kai watched him closely. "So what does that make you now?"
Kartiga exhaled slowly. Then smiled—not wide, not bold. Just enough.
"Someone who just realized he doesn't want to go back."
And the waves rocked the ship forward, as if agreeing.
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NORTH
Snow crunched under the hooves of tired horses. The wind howled across the Kingsroad, biting at cloaks and fingers. Jon Snow rode near the front of the small column, face half-hidden beneath his hood, Ghost trotting silently beside him.
He hadn't spoken much since they left Winterfell.
His thoughts replayed that final talk with Lord Stark. No answers. Only a promise.
"When the time comes, I'll tell you about your mother."
Now the silence echoed louder than ever.
He stared ahead. The Wall waited in the far north, tall and cold as the unknown.
Farther back in the group, two riders moved with quietly behind. They dressed like poor bastards—leather patched and worn, voices low, names too simple: Toru and Renji.
But they weren't who they claimed.
They were Shinobi.
Hidden eyes behind lazy posture. Measuring footsteps. Matching pace.
Toru whispered, low enough only Renji would hear. "He's alone in his mind."
Renji gave the faintest nod. "Carrying a weight. Still straight in the saddle."
"Not trained. But disciplined," Toru said, eyes on Jon's form.
Renji tilted his head toward the front. "Strange target for the master's interest."
"Master sees patterns before others see shapes," Toru replied.
"Still," Renji muttered, "he's just a bastard boy. Why now?"
Toru was quiet for a moment. Then, calmly: "Because even storms begin as still air."
Up ahead, Jon shifted in his saddle. He hadn't heard them—at least not clearly. But Ghost slowed just a little, sniffing the wind.
Toru's fingers brushed the hilt beneath his cloak. "The wolf senses us."
Renji didn't react. "Let it. We're not enemies. Not yet."
They rode on.
Shadows moving in plain sight.
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