"My goodness, you're looking less and less like a lion," Lancelot couldn't help but remark.
"If you keep evolving like this, will you turn into a manticore or something?" Lancelot wondered.
Just then, Sansa Stark came looking for Lancelot. Lancelot was a bit puzzled as to why she was here.
Sansa Stark held the leash of her direwolf, Lady, as they cautiously approached Lancelot.
"Ser Lancelot, Hrakkar seems to have grown bigger! And why has he grown horns like a bull?" Sansa Stark stared at the white lion in astonishment.
"Perhaps the Old Gods in the Godswood saw his might and granted him some power!" Lancelot replied.
If it were Arya hearing this, she would have bombarded him with questions, but Sansa Stark did no such thing.
Blushing, she walked step by step toward Lancelot.
"Ser Lancelot, I have come to fulfill the agreement!"
"Agreement? Is there an agreement between you and me?" Lancelot asked curiously.
"My brother Robb lost to you, so I must offer you a kiss."
Taking advantage of Lancelot's surprise, Sansa planted a kiss on his cheek, then looked at him shyly.
"Don't do this to me! Joffrey is my brother! If Cersei and the others find out you kissed me, there'll be hell to pay!" Lancelot thought.
On the surface, however, he nodded calmly.
"Now the agreement between us is fulfilled! We owe each other nothing! Lady Sansa, I look forward to seeing how much glory you will achieve in King's Landing. The noble ladies there will surely be jealous of your beauty!" Lancelot said.
Sansa Stark smiled even brighter. She took out a handkerchief from her dress, intending to give it to Lancelot.
"I embroidered this handkerchief while doing needlework with Myrcella. I hope you will accept it!"
Lancelot looked at the handkerchief she offered, unsure if he should take it.
However, seeing a majestic white lion embroidered on it, Lancelot knew he had to accept it. If others saw it, it would only cause more misunderstandings.
Lancelot took the handkerchief and thanked Sansa. He felt he should give something in return.
So, he took out a ruby necklace and gave it to her.
"Lady Sansa, this ruby necklace matches your hair perfectly. I hope you like it."
Sansa Stark was overjoyed and accepted the necklace with both hands. But then she turned sideways, looking at Lancelot.
"Could you please help me put it on?" she asked softly.
Lancelot picked up the necklace, walked behind her, lifted her hair, and prepared to fasten it.
At that moment, a lion's roar sounded. Myrcella arrived with her lioness, Joanna.
"What are you two doing? How did Hrakkar get so big? And why does he have two bull horns?"
Myrcella's arrival put a stop to any further actions between the two. She walked up to Hrakkar and stroked his mane.
"Brother, I heard horsehair is best for making lute strings. Can I go cut some from Raven and Red Hare's tails?" Myrcella asked.
"Don't go yourself; they might kick you. I'll cut some for you," Lancelot said.
"Yay! Let's go!"
Myrcella took Lancelot's arm and led him away. Sansa Stark gripped the necklace tightly in her palm, a look of defiance in her eyes.
When Myrcella held Lancelot's arm, he felt her grip was tighter than usual, as if she sensed some threat.
"What's wrong, Myrcella? Are you not wearing enough? Feeling cold? Well, this is the North, after all!" Lancelot said.
Myrcella hugged Lancelot even tighter.
"If I hold onto you tighter, I'll be warmer!" she laughed.
When they arrived at the stables, they saw a crowd gathered. Among them, Theon was lying on the ground, wailing.
"What happened?" Lancelot walked up and asked.
Seeing Myrcella, the others quickly bowed.
"Your Highness! Ser Lancelot!"
"Lancelot, it's like this. Theon saw that your horse is a rare steed and wanted to breed a Winterfell mare with it, but he got kicked by Raven," Jon Snow explained.
"Lancelot, please don't be angry! I tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen!" Jon Snow said with a helpless look.
"Then he really deserved it!" Lancelot sneered.
"Theon, let me help you to Maester Luwin!" Jon Snow offered.
"Get away! I can do it myself!"
Theon pushed Jon away, cast a resentful glare at Lancelot, and limped off, hunched over in pain.
"Looks like he's hurt pretty badly! At least a few broken ribs! Truly self-inflicted!" Lancelot remarked.
Next, Lancelot cut some hair from Raven and Red Hare's tails and sent it to Septa Mordane in Winterfell, asking her to make strings for a lute.
"This is the finest horsehair I've ever seen. I will make the best lute to repay Ser Lancelot!" Septa Mordane said.
"Give it to Myrcella when it's done. She's the one who wants to play! Though she's never played very well—not even as good as Mance Rayder!" Lancelot teased.
His words earned him an eye-roll from Myrcella, but feeling guilty about her lack of skill, she didn't argue.
However, Myrcella vowed silently to herself, "I will practice hard and play for Brother Lancelot one day!"
---
Rattleshirt and his men were badly injured. Some had their arms bitten off by Hrakkar, others were deeply clawed. But they were the lucky ones; their companions were dead. At least they could live a few days longer.
During this time, Lancelot visited the wildlings in the dungeon. Their spirits weren't too low, as they were well-fed in Winterfell's cells, and Maester Luwin checked their wounds daily.
"I heard the hot springs of Winterfell are the best. I wonder if we can soak in them before we die!" one wildling said.
So, Eddard Stark ordered them to be taken to a small hot spring pool to bathe, fulfilling their last wish.
However, while soaking, one wildling had a sudden idea and tried to swim out through the water source. He dived deep, looking for an exit, but ended up floating to the surface, nearly dead.
Fortunately, Maester Luwin, having spent time with Theon, had learned the CPR techniques of the Ironborn and managed to revive him.
"You didn't really want a bath; you were trying to escape. But there's magma beneath the hot springs. You're lucky you didn't die. Just stay put, heal up, and wait for your trial by combat!" Maester Luwin scolded the nearly drowned wildling.
Only then did he realize the wildling was quite young, seemingly around the same age as Robb and Jon. He couldn't help but ask his age.
"What is your name, and how old are you?"
"My name is Aguda. I am fifteen years old. I am a raider, specializing in dealing with crows!" the young Aguda replied.