Difficulties on the Journey South
We stop and take rest once in the afternoon and then once more in the evening to make camp. It's been three weeks since we left Winterfell and with each step forward it gets a little warmer. I look forward to the day when I no longer have to wear my fur-cloak.
Today we've stopped in a small outlying village between he North's and South's boarders at midday and decided to remain here until morning. Sansa and the other girls of our party – excluding Arya – are grateful for the lull in our travels.
From time to time I find myself drifting off back to thoughts of the North… of home. Hoping Bran is faring well, possibly even awake. Praying that Jon is safe on his journey to the wall. Worrying that the stress of being Lord has taken its toll on Robb, especially if Lady Stark is still as distracted as she was when we left. There are times I want to just jump on my horse and rid back. Not care what Lord Stark has to say. But then I see the grief and torment on his face. If the stress and hardships are effecting him now how will they affect him when he reaches Kings Landing? How will it affect the girls? I can't leave. No matter how much I may want to, I cannot abandon them.
It hurts to have our family torn apart like this. I know it must hurt Lord Stark just as much, possibly more, than it's hurting me.
The sun scorches down on us today. For the first time in a long time I've removed my winter cloak and wear only my long sleeved shirt and leather vest on top of it. The loss of weight feels strange on my shoulders, but the nostalgic feeling of warmth and loose clothing relaxes me. I throw my boots up onto the carriages wheel and tuck my arms behind my head and enjoy the sun dances across my closed eyelids.
"Eliza?"
I peak out of my left eye to see Sansa standing beside me.
"What is it?" I ask, shutting my eyes once more and readjusting my position.
"I was about to take Lady for a walk," the girls voice is very timid, like it has been for most of our journey thus far.
I shrug my shoulders uncomfortably knowing what's coming next. "Do you want me to go with you?"
I don't need to open my eyes to know she's nodding her head. I grunt as I drop my boots and thrust myself up into a standing position. "Alright then," I smile and crouch down so I can pet Lady. "You wish to go for a walk girl," I coo rubbing my palm over her soft white fur. I spring back up to my feet and snatch my sword from its wresting position against my chair. I secure it onto my belt and tuck my arm between my hip and its hilt.
"You lead the way," I say holding my arm out for Sansa to take the lead. The girl nods slightly and I smile as she heads in the direction of the royal camp. Of course that's where she wants to go. I take my place beside her as we walk.
As we pass tents and armored soldiers greet us without a word. We wander deeper into the camp where there are less men in armor and more ladies in satin gowns. We pass the queens royal carriage where a small group of the young princess's handmaidens sit playing with their hair. Sansa looks at them and when they catch her eye they all start giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Sansa drops her head shamefully.
I take Lady's leash from her fingers and wrap my free arm around her shoulders.
"You are beautiful Sansa," I say comfortingly. "So you are a little different than girls of the south. It's your individuality that makes you special. Your crimson hair, your blue eyes, you hand-made dress. You are beautiful and don't you dare let any Southern turnip tell you otherwise." I tighten my grip on her shoulders as I speak, trying to dig the message into her. She nods but I can tell she doesn't take what I say fully to heart.
Sansa has always cared too much about what others think. It could be her undoing in the capitol. Another reason for me to stay.
I'm so focused on Sansa, and she on her feet, that neither of us notice the figure in front of us till we nearly collide with him.
Sansa jumps with a start at his stern face and wanders back a few tiny steps. I on the other hand hold my ground and stare the man down. He is a man of the king's party, but there is something about him that makes me uncomfortable. Some dark glint in his eye that makes me move over so that I am standing more in front of Sansa.
"Pardon us Ser," Sansa says from behind me.
The man makes no response but glares at Sansa over my shoulder. My hand instinctively wraps around my swords hilt.
"What is this a standoff?"
Both Sansa and I spin round at the voice. I have almost grown accustomed to Clegane's spontaneous appearances. Sansa on the other hand has not. She steps back and into me nearly landing her foot on Lady's paw.
"Do I frighten you so much girl? Or is it him there making you shake?" he asks Sansa. I see him glance at me quickly and I give him a wicked smile. He averts my gaze instantly.
"He frightens me too," Clegane says looking up to the man standing on my left. "Look at that face." I bite my lip to hold back a need to laugh at his ironic phrase.
Sansa glances back over to the silent man and says, politely and in her proper voice like her mother taught her, "I'm sorry if I offended you Ser." She ends it with a slight bow over her head – ever the lady she is – and waits for the mans acceptance to her apology but it doesn't come. He just stands there for a few moments before walking off.
"Why won't he speak to me?" Sansa asks as Clegane and I watch him wander off. I too am wondering the same.
"He hasn't been very talkative these last twenty years," Clegane answers. "Since the Mad King had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers." I find myself looking back at the man with more pity than animosity, although the feeling still lingers.
"Heh speaks damn well with a sword though," the crown prince says walking up to replace the man at my left. My jaw tightens when I see the brightness on Sansa's face at his approach.
"Ser Ilyn Payne," the prince continues. "The King's Justice." He says this with a satisfactory smile which gives me the feeling that justice has nothing to do with what Payne does.
Sansa must look on him with confusion for he leans forward and gives a more exact identification of Ilyn Payne's purpose.
"The Royal executioner."
Sansa's expression falls. Though she knows that those events occur, even in the North, they are kept amongst need-to-know parties and not brought up around her. He innocence will be tested in her time at the capitol, especially if she is to become queen. Meaning she'll be married to Joffrey. I can't prevent myself from glaring at the young blonde.
It is then that the prince notices my presence. "We meet again," he says with a gleeful smile that makes me want to vomit.
"You two have met before?" Sansa asks surprised.
"We have," Joffrey responds before I have the chance. "You're friend really is a fine shot. Although, her manners are something I'm not accustomed too. I look forward to becoming more acquainted with her." His eyes go up and down my figure making me shiver slightly. "As well as with you My Lady," he adds once again turning to Sansa.
"What is it my sweet lady?" he asks bringing his hand up to graze Sansa's cheek. The grasp I have on my sword is so tight I believe I am cutting off blood flow.
"Does the Hound frighten you?" he asks glaring behind her and up to Clegane. "Away with you dog! You're scaring My Lady." The sweet smile he gives Sansa after such a cruel remark gives me the desire to slap him. I attempt to give Clegane an apologetic smile but he has already started walking away.
"The sun's finally shining," the prince remarks. "If you ladies would walk with me?"
"I would be delighted, but Eliza has some matters to attend to with my father."
Wait, what?
Sansa turns to me and mouths: 'please?'. I sigh and nod my head.
"Yes," I say, clarifying Sansa's statement. "My apologies," I say towards the prince with a slight bow.
"What a shame. Perhaps another time." Again I find him staring me up and down.
"Goodbye," Sansa says quickly before the two scurry off in the direction of the river. As I watch them go a strong desire to follow them secretly overcomes me, but when Lady wines at my feet I realize it is not possible.
As they disappear into the brush I try and rise up higher so that I may see them better but it's no use. I gnaw at my lip till the slight tinge of blood pierces my tongue.
"You care for that girl a great deal."
I don't even turn around to acknowledge his return.
"I care for all the Starks a great deal."
When I can no longer make out even the slightest tinge of red in the tree branches I turn around and find myself standing face to face – well, more like face to chest – with Clegane. I tilt my head up to look into his face.
"You shouldn't care about others so much," he says. "Eventually everyone dies."
"True," I respond moving around him, pulling Lady with me. "But at this moment they are all alive and I intend to do everything I can to keep them that way."
"That's fucking foolish," he growls coming up beside me.
"Perhaps," I smile weakly. "But they are all I have. I would give everything I have to ensure that Sansa, Arya, and Lord Stark are well in Kings Landing. That's why I'm here."
"And you think you can survive Kings Landing?" his voice displays his belief that I am just as out of my element as the Starks are.
"Yes," I reply strongly. "After all, I survived it once before."
His feet cease and he falls behind me as I keep moving forward.
I wonder why he's the first and only person I've told that to? I guess it's because I know he won't say anything to anyone else. For some strange reason I feel that I can trust Sandor Clegane. Though by all the heavens I don't know why.
It's been nearly two hours since the repot of Arya's disappearance. Lord Stark and Jory as well as nearly all the Stark guards have gone out searching for her. I even heard that some of the royal and Lannister guards have gone out looking. Though I feel their desire to find her may not be to reunite a worried father with his daughter. When Sansa and prince Joffrey arrived back at camp they seemed to have been a situation. The boy was clutching his arm and wincing in pain and Sansa was frantic. She was too distraught and upset to tell me what had happened. The only thing she could say was that Arya had run off. When the girl didn't come back by sundown Lord Stark decided to go look for her.
Ned asked that I remain back at the camp so that if she returned someone that she knows will be waiting for her. Sansa was so upset that I had her go to sleep rather than wait up with me. She was all too eager to comply, mumbling something about 'how could Arya have been so stupid'. Since then I have been pacing back and forth in front of our tent. Every once and a while scanning through the tree line in case Arya tumbles her way out. So far no luck.
With each passing minute I grow more and more frantic. My need to go out and search for the girl myself growing dire. Multiple servants come up and offer me drinks and food and try to comfort me with words of reassurance. All of which fail. I wave the most recent do-gooder away and return to my frantic pacing. My forearm hangs on the hilt of my sword and I pick at the peen block with my nail.
"Where in the seven hells is she?" I groan.
Not an instant later I hear a rumble in the trees and my head pops up just in time to see Jory come rushing through. He pants heavily and waves his arm out in the direction he's come from, wheezing as though he is trying to speak. I grab my cup from a nearby table and quickly walk over to the man.
"Here," I say holding the cup up to his lips and he drinks as though he hasn't had a sip for days.
When the cup is empty Jory speaks frantically, his words slurring together. "The Lannisters have found Arya. They've taken her before the King."
"What?" I cry. "Why would they do that?"
"The Queen has ordered it. Apparently our Lady has attacked the crown prince earlier."
Although I wish to argue such an idea it wouldn't be too much of a surprise to me if it were true. The look on Jory's face agrees with me. I sigh while the Jory calms his breathing.
"Where are they now?" I ask.
"In the dining hall of the Kings inn."
"Alright," I help him to his feet. "Take my horse. Ride to the east. Lord Stark is there searching for her. Hurry."
"At once My Lady."
Jory rushes off in the direction of our camps makeshift stables and I take off at a charging pace towards Lady Arya.
When I arrive in the inn the room is full of nearly every one of the king's party. Everyone except Arya, who stands in front of King Robert who is seated with his wife and son standing beside him. Joffrey cradles his arm and directs a fiery glare in Arya's direction. The girl stands there with her hands clenched into fist and her face twisted in frustration, eyeing the prince ferociously. I'm sure that should her new sword be at her side, she'd have no hesitation on stabbing the blonde.
"Arya," I say coming up beside the girl, placing myself between the two children's lines of vision. "Are you alright?" I attempt to lay my hand on her shoulder but she moves away before my hand is anywhere near her.
"What is the meaning of this?" I ask sternly, turning around to face the royal family.
"This is no concern of yours girl," King Robert sighs with a wave of his hand as if I were no more than a fly.
"Lord Stark should have been retrieved immediately upon Arya's discovery!" I shout ignoring the Kings dismissal. "He's been worried sick!"
"That I have been."
All eyes shift towards the entrance where Ned is forcing his way through the crowd. He shoves multiple Lannister soldiers until he's finally at Arya's side. He takes her in his arms and pulls her to his chest.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Arya cries out repeatedly showing weakness for the first time since I've arrived. No doubt her father's presence has made her cold hard armor chip away. Right now she's just a scared girl that needs her father. I step back and beside Jory so that only Ned and his daughter are left standing before the King.
"Are you hurt?" Ned asks pushing her to arm's length so that he may inspect her for injuries.
"No," Arya replies and I can see tears beginning to well up in her eyes.
Seeing his daughters distraught face he takes her back into his arms. "It's alright," he murmurs into her hair and Arya's little fingers grip his shirt tightly. I wish I could have comforted her more before Ned's arrival. The poor girl is petrified.
Now that he is assured his daughter is well and safe I can see the agitation appearing on Ned's face. He pulls away from his daughter and leers in the Kings direction.
"What is the meaning of this?" he cries.
"How dare you speak to your king in that manner," the queen scolds Lord Stark and I have an overwhelming urge to smack her or shout at her to shut her damn mouth. I don't have to however for her husband does it for me.
"Be quiet woman!" he belts at her before turning an apologetic face to his dear friend of the North. "I'm sorry Ned, I never meant to frighten the girl." I know he speaks truth. King Robert may be a fool of a King, but he is not a bad man. It's one of the few things I've learned about him so far.
"But we need to get this business done quickly," King Robert continues.
"Your girl and that butcher's boy attacked my son," the queen interjects. "That animal of hers nearly tore his arm off." It is then I realize that Nymeria is not at Arya's side and I didn't see her when I came in either. Where has the direwolfe gone?
"That's not true!" Arya screams, countering the queens words. When all eyes fall on the girl her confidence wavers but she still speaks what's on her mind. "She just, bit him a little. He was hurting Mica!" Arya says her last sentence with more confidence which results in me believing it as truth. I am even more sure when I see the corner of Joffrey's lip quirk of at the mention of it.
"Joff told us what happened," the queen says. "You and that boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."
"That's not what happened!"
"Yes it is!" Joffrey shouts, his voice higher pitched, like a whining baby. "They all attacked me and she threw my sword in the river!"
"Liar!"
"Shut up!"
I know that nearly everyone in the room can tell that this story is a lie, but who can argue with the queen. If I had wouldn't get my head chopped off for it I'd tell the damn bitch to shut her mouth. Her son is a liar. It's plain as day on his face.
"Enough!" King Robert shouts to silence their bickering. "He tells me one thing, she tells me another! Seven Hells! What am I to make of this?"
I don't know if this is the attitude of a father trying not to discretely defend his son or a man that is just too blind to see the truth. Somehow I doubt my first idea.
The king glances around the room and when he doesn't find what he was in search of turns back to Ned.
"Where's your other daughter Ned?"
"She's in bed asleep your Grace," I interject and Ned looks at me with thankful eyes.
That comforting notion is destroyed however as the queen speaks.
"No she's not. Sansa, come here darling."
All eyes in the room shift to see Sansa being led in by two Lannister guards. She's dressed in nothing but her under-gown and a thin sheet to cover herself. Her face is pale and her head is tilted towards the floor. When she stands before the King in front of her sister and father she nods her head slightly to simulate a bow.
"Now, child," the King says. "Tell me what happened. Tell it all, and tell it true. It's a great crime to lie to a king." This man knows nothing of children. A statement like that can do nothing but scare Sansa out her wits even more than she already is. She looks to her father for comfort but all Ned can do is nod his head.
I see her head tilt back in the direction of the King, though I know her eyes must be on Joffrey for he bites the inside of his cheek with a hard look in his eyes.
"I don't know," Sansa mumbles. "I don't remember. Everything happened so fast. I didn't see."
"Liar!" Arya cries out grabbing her sister by the hair and tugging it hard so that Sansa arches her back in a 'U' shape. The red haired girl cries out in pain as her sister screams out: "Liar! Liar! Liar!" I rush up and grab hold of Arya's hand and try to tug her fingers out of Sansa's tangled bright hair. As I do this Ned grabs his youngest daughters waist and pulls her away from her sister.
"Arya!" Ned shouts loud enough that I think the floor will shake and the little girl ceases her frantic shouting and curls her hands into fists. Sansa leans herself against me and I brush out her hair lightly with my fingers.
"She's as wild as that animal of hers," the queen smirks and I find myself glaring at her without giving a damn who sees.
"I want her punished!" the queen demands.
"What would you have me do? Whip her through the streets?" the King bellows. "Damn it! Children fight! It's over!"
"Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life," the queen glares down at her husband.
King Robert glances from his wife to his son. "You let that little girl disarm you?"
Joffrey purses his lips and drops his eyes down to the floor. I try my best not to laugh but a small chuckle slips out of my lips. No matter what story he tells he still gets it wrong. The abuser who attacked an innocent boy, or the victim who was beat by a girl. I don't know which would be more disappointing to a father, but I suppose to a war hero like Robert Baratheon, losing a fight with a girl is worse than beating and innocent boy. Based on Joffrey's reaction he knows this too.
Taking his son's silence as a yes the King turns back to us. "Ned, see to it that your daughters disciplined. I'll do the same with my son."
"Gladly your Grace."
Both Ned and King Robert make their way out of the room, I take Sansa and begin to follow when the queen once again opens here large mouth.
"And what of the direwolf?" she asks, causing all of us to stop and face her. "What of the beast that savaged your son?"
"I forgot the damned wolf," King Robert growls.
"We found no trace of the direwolf your Grace," one of the royal guards informs the king.
"No? So be it," and once again he begins to head out of the room, as do we all when the queen speaks up again. Although this time, her words strike a strong cord with me as well as with the rest of the Stark party standing in the room.
"We have another wolf."
King Robert looks to his queen and then sighs. "As you will."
This time it is Ned that stops his exit.
"You can't mean it?" he questions his friend.
"A direwolf's no pet," King Robert replys. "Get her a dog. She'll be happier for it." He then charges past Ned determined that this be the last time he's stopped from leaving.
It's then that the realization of the conversation comes to Sansa.
"He doesn't mean Lady does he?" her voice is shaking and I can feel her body trembling up against me.
When no response comes from any of us and my arm wraps around her back Sansa's body goes ridged. "No, not Lady. Lady didn't bite anyone! She's good!" She spins around, out of my grasp to face the queen and prince Joffrey. The two stand their flat faced without a drop of pity in their eyes.
"Lady wasn't there! You leave her alone!" Arya adds. Although she may be strong-willed Arya does care for her sister. Feeling the pain of losing her own direwolf is probably something she does not wish upon her sister.
Sansa flings herself at her father, tugging on his arms. "Please stop them. Don't let them do it. It wasn't Lady!" Sansa cries out again and I can see the pain in Ned's face as he looks at his daughters tear stained cheeks.
"Is this your command?" Ned calls out after his friend. "Your Grace," he adds coldly.
King Robert stops only long enough to acknowledge that he's heard his friend before exiting the room without another word.
"Where is the beast?" the queen asks.
"Chained up outside your Grace," a guard replies.
"Ser Ilyn, do the honor."
"No," Ned cries before Ser Ilyn can take another step. He turns to me and says, "Take the girls to their rooms." Sansa begins to weep audibly and I quickly come up beside her and place my arms around her. I nod to Ned as Sansa spins round and buries her face into my shoulder.
"If it must be done," Ned says turning to the queen. "Then I'll do it myself."
"Is this some trick?" the queen questions.
"The wolf is of the North!" Ned declares. "She deserves better than a butcher." At his words Sansa's weeping grows louder and I place my hand on the back of her head to try and comfort her as much as I can.
Ned turns away from the queen and faces me. His look asks if I have this under control. I give him a weak smile and he quickly exits the inn.
Arya stands their glaring at the queen and Joffrey and I fear she may do something drastic. I quickly signal for Jory to come over where he drops his hands onto Arya's shoulders and starts to lead her out of the inn. I take Sansa's hand in mine and escort her out as well. When we've exited the building and caught up with Jory and Arya and pass Sansa's hand to Jory.
"Take them to their rooms," I say. "There is something I must do." Jory nods and leads the girls in the direction of our area of camp.
Once they are out of sight I turn in the opposite direction where I know that Lady is chained up. I hope that I can catch up with Ned before he has killed the poor girl. Perhaps I can convince him to let me take the direwolf out into the woods.
I am not that far when a horse being led by an armored figure appears in front of me. But it's not just any figure, it's Sandor Clegane. I'm about to question his absence at the 'trial' when I see a large sack slung over the back of his horse. When he gets closer I can see dark splotches coating patches of the sack and a shoe sticks out the opening.
I feel an ache in my chest as I look up at him.
"The butcher's boy?"
"It was a command." His tone is flat and cold.
I take a step towards him so that I have to bend my head back to see his face. "Just because we are commanded to do things, doesn't mean that we must do them."
"Tell me that again when you're in Kings Landing. When the prince, who demanded a boy who merely insulted him killed, gains more interest in you. When he demands you do something for him and you refuse, how do you think he will react them?"
"I would never do the bidding of a killer. No matter what becomes of me."
"But you already are," Clegane steps forward so that we are only a nose length apart. "All men are killers. I would have assumed you'd learned that already."
"All men are killers. I know this is true," I say flatly. "But not all men kill needlessly. Killing is a way of life in this world. It doesn't matter who you kill, only why you kill them."
I step back and look from Clegane to the dead boy thrown across his saddle like a pig. "There was no reason for this boy to die, and you know there wasn't."
The Hound has no response for me, and I have nothing further to say to him. Knowing that my time to save the direwolf has most likely gone by already, I turn on my heels and head back towards camp. The stench of the butcher's boy's blood still swimming in my nose.
