Ruby Ford
Sansa Stark
It has been a moon's worth since they left Winterfell and as they neared King's Landing, her excitement to see new sights grew. Though wariness also wore on her as well especially when she recalled Boudicca's terrible words of warning. Sansa looked at the horn that was placed on the table next to her mirror and picked up, inspecting its features. It was beautifully crafted and she was sure when they reached the capitol, many Ladies and Lords will be wearing them too. How she longed to see the knights in their shining armour and golden cloaks, the Ladies in their Southern silken dresses and of course, the warmth and heat on her skin.
Sansa had also dreamt of herself as the future Queen of Westeros, it was a pleasant dream. Sansa dreamt that she was loved by the entirety of Westeros, and would stand beside Joffrey, as husband and wife, when he would be crowned King and would sit next to him in the grandest of dresses. They would rule over all and then she thought of the children they would have together. Sansa would have blonde haired, green eyed stags or perhaps they would be blue eyed, either or she would love them fiercely with all her heart and body.
Love no one but your children, Queen Cersei had told her.
Sansa placed the horn back down gently on the table and looked into the mirror, gazing at her giddy reflection while she brushed her hair and patted out the wrinkles on her blue gown. She had been invited to ride with Queen Cersei and her children, Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen in the wheelhouse. And she wanted to look her utmost best like Cersei told her to. Appearance is everything, the Queen had informed her. The Queen was preparing her for the role of Queen when Joffrey became King and she listened to every word Queen Cersei spoke. She wanted to be prepared and experienced. Sansa carefully got up and made the small journey to the royal tent, the grandest and highest of them all.
"Lady," Sansa called to her direwolf.
Sansa walked outside of her tent and her eyes landed on her grey direwolf, who watched her with yellow eyes. She smiles and unties the bound Lady and they began to walk towards the Queen's tent, who stalked in front of her, though she kept the rope tight in her grip in fear of Lady running off and frightening the people nearby. On her way towards the tent, Nymeria ran passed her shortly followed by her younger sister, Arya, and she inwardly rolled her eyes when she took in her sister's messy hair and dirt covered face and clothes. She is no Lady, Sansa thinks to herself with disdain.
"Are you riding with us?" Sansa asked warily, eyeing her carefully.
"No. Why would I ride with you and the Queen?" Arya snorts, screwing up her face. "I'm going to ride with Boudicca. Besides, I don't even like the Queen. She would not let me bring Nymeria, she says that the wheelhouse is no place for a wolf."
Sansa let out a relieved sigh, sucking in a small shuddering breath. According to the Queen, appearance was everything and her appearance would be ruined if Arya had joined them. It would have done more bad than good. Arya was no Lady, despite how much Sansa desired for her sister to be. All her life, she had grown up with brothers and wanted a sister, a sister who was like her in every way, instead, she got a wild sister. Arya was boisterous and was too crude to be in front of the Queen and her children. She almost died last week when Arya swore in front of the Queen. As Sansa turned to leave, she stilled when the curiosity got the best of her and turned fully to face her sister with a raised brow.
"What are you up to?" Sansa asked with furrowed brows. "You heard father. We are not to wander off. You will get us both in trouble."
"Rubies. Mycah and I are going to look for rubies at the Ruby Ford," Arya informed her as if it were obvious.
That is certainly not what a true Lady would do, Sansa thinks. On their long, exciting journey to King's Landing, her sister had become the travelling companion of Boudicca. Often when Sansa was practising her needlework with Jeyne in their carriage, they saw Arya riding on the back of Boudicca's horse. It was a shocking sight to see. And while doing so, Arya and Boudicca had befriended many people of the lower class. Her sister and the wild woman had slowly become a thing to frown upon, not that anyone would dare say anything to the King or especially, the Queen.
They had befriended them. And out of them all, Mycah was Arya's favourite companion and friend. Mycah was the butcher's boy about ten and three years of age, though he was not very comely nor was he very bright. He is nothing like Joffrey is, Sansa thinks with a small smile. Joffrey is kind and handsome. She held little to no care for Mycah but the mentioning of rubies had caught her interest and attention.
"Rubies?" Sansa asked, raising her chin higher in question to it.
"Rhaegar's Rubies," Arya told her, rolling her eyes but nevertheless she continued to weave her tale. "King Robert Baratheon battled Prince Rhaegar Targaryen during the Battle of the Trident. Prince Rhaegar wore a breastplate covered in rubies that formed a dragon. It is said that during the fight that King Robert struck Rhaegar so hard that the rubies fell from the breastplate into the river, this is the exact spot where they fought. This is the battle that King Robert got his name. The Demon of the Trident."
"I wish you luck then," Sansa replied as Arya ran off, following after Nymeria.
Sansa continued to make her way towards the tent and pondered how she and her sister could be so different but then she let her thoughts drift to the Baratheon Princesses. Princess Boudicca and Princess Myrcella were as different as night and day. Myrcella was a dove while Boudicca was a crow. Myrcella was very beautiful and reminded her of the Maiden, dancing across the sky and bringing forth spring like in the stories. And then there was Boudicca, although she did not possess the beauty of her mother and siblings, she reminded her of the Warrior.
Then came forth the Warrior, she recited the book on the Seven. He who sounds the drums of war. He who brings the storm. The Warrior rides across the sky in a chariot pulled by black stallions, their hooves sounding like thunder and as he raises his sword, calling out for the end of war, lightning strikes from it, igniting the skies above him. His wounds create the seas, the rivers and the streams. The blood that runs clear falls from the heavens.
Sansa makes her way towards the tent but stills when she notices several men kneeling in front of Queen Cersei. The first man was tall, handsome and powerfully built wearing an armour of forest green. The man stood up and faced her, for the briefest of moments she thought it was Boudicca but then she noticed the blue eyes and knew that it wasn't. They had their dark curls styled the same way and while Boudicca held softer features, which she had most likely gained from Cersei, she came to the realisation that he holds Boudicca's same soft features too. The man next to the Queen held an air of gentleness around him while Boudicca held a ferocity.
Renly Baratheon. It did not take Sansa long to figure out who this man was. He was the youngest of the Baratheon brothers. Although she had not met or had seen Stannis, she guessed that Lord Renly was the kindest of the three. Sansa turned to a noise and saw Boudicca briskly walk towards Renly before she threw herself at him, pulling him into a tight embrace. If he weren't a man, Sansa thinks. She would have broken a rib or two of this. It was a strange sight to see as they greeted each other like her father and the King did. Like, old friends.
"Look at you-" Renly began, a kindness in his tone as he smiled in delight. "You grow more beautiful each day, Boudicca."
"The same could be said for you, Uncle Renly," She chuckled and pulled away from him. "How was the journey then? I never thought you would be riding back to King's Landing with us."
"Princess Boudicca," The second man addressed, though his voice held fondness.
"Ser Barristan!" Boudicca proclaimed.
Boudicca moved swiftly to the older man and they gripped forearms before she pulled away. Sansa stared at the old man, with white hair and aged features. Though he was older, he still had some handsome features. The man wore white armour and cloak. Her eyes trailed up to meet his own and she saw his once sad eyes lighten when he began to tell her everything that has happened, though it did not hold her interest.
Sansa's blue eyes flickered to the third man and she shuddered, looking on warily. His face was gaunt and gruesome. His lips were pulled into a thin line and his face held no expression. His eyes were hollow and held no emotion. His armour was battle worn and rugged, though her eyes were trained on the greatsword that was strapped over his shoulder. His face was terrifying to witness, she could not help but visibly wince and shift to the side. Boudicca seemed to take notice of the man as well and turned to Lord Renly, scoffing.
"The Queen insisted on it." Renly laughed loudly. "Ser Illyn Payne is to be a part of the honour guard."
"What did you bring him for?" Boudicca inquired, her face screwing up in disdain and she was immediately reminded of when the Queen made that face during one of their many rides in the wheelhouse. "I never knew we were performing any executions."
Sansa, little dove, Boudicca may not share my looks but she is a Lannister nonetheless, Queen Cersei's voice echoes in her head. She has my smile and fights like my brother, Jaime and unfortunately there is some of the little Imp in her too, else she would not have her chambers littered with books and literature. Boudicca most importantly has my mother's green eyes. I said this to my husband once, he refused to acknowledge me for moons worth. I soon began to wonder if he would ever speak to me again.
"Ser llyn Payne is the King's Justice. The Queen insisted on it," Renly laughed loudly and he too shared a similar look with Boudicca.
As if sensing her eyes on him, llyn Payne turned slowly to face her and their eyes met. His lips formed into a sickening sneer causing Sansa to quickly avert her eyes. Boudicca thankfully noticed her discomfort and approached her, looping an arm in her own. Lady whined at her feet, beginning to pace back and forth.
"Does Ser llyn scare you, Sansa?" Boudicca asked politely, though she heard a certain darkness in her tone. She saw concern etch onto the woman's features when she gave a quick nod. This prompted Boudicca to turn and face Ser llyn. "If you don't have any other purpose here, piss off. You're frightening Lady Sansa."
"It is alright, sweet Lady," Ser Barristan said. "Ser llyn frightens me as well, he has a rather fearsome aspect to him does he not?"
Ser llyn Payne stiffened but still bowed to them before he turned and walked away. Sansa smiled lightly in relief, her tense shoulders relaxing as Renly stifled his infamous loud laughter that he was apparently known for. Princess Boudicca held her arm tighter, pulling her closer as if to comfort her. I will need to learn, Sansa thought. She knew that if she was to be Queen of Westeros someday, she would need to learn to be fierce. And who better to learn it from than Boudicca. There was a certain aspect about being near the eldest Baratheon child that gave you comfort, that gave you protection and she was glad that someday she may call her sister.
"Ser Barristan speaks the truth," Boudicca told her. "Ser llyn is the royal executioner, he tends to frighten most people."
"True," Lord Renly agreed. "He hasn't been talkative these past few years."
"I personally, do not think we need someone to rid us of our enemies," She informs her. "The man who sentences them to death should be the one to kill them. Though, my father cannot get off his arse to do so. In King's Landing, the place is crawling with treachery, treasons and traitors. Do not worry Sansa, I won't let anyone harm you or your family."
"It is Ser llyn's job to frighten the wicked, my fawn," Cersei said as she rose from her seat and approached them. "You should not send him off so abruptly in case wickedness is near. The world is full of liars."
"I find that when you stare into the face of a liar," Boudicca responded, staring at her mother. "You find that the lies stare right back at you."
Sansa was deeply surprised at the stiffness present in Boudicca's voice. It was strange the way the Princess spoke and it not only surprised her, the Queen was surprised too. Queen Cersei, stared at her daughter with sharpness and at one point, Sansa wondered if Cersei would strike her as she raised her hand but dropped it once more. The Queen opened her mouth to speak but when she did, voices shouted of a direwolf.
Her eyes widened and she looked down to the rope she held and noticed that Lady was not at the end of it, her eyes widened and she turned to look outside the tent and saw her direwolf, circling and yipping around the horses, startling them. The people outside of the tent took notice of her ever growing direwolf and were muttering and whispering feverishly. Lord Renly and the Kingsguard that had arrived with him, drew their swords, it seemed they were driven by complete instinct. Sansa's eyes became pleading and panicked, she looked frantically for her father, terrified of what they might do to Lady. She turned to face the Queen, who merely looked on as people approached her direwolf with weapons before she turned to face Boudicca, who held a frown on her face.
"Stay your swords, you horrible lot!" Boudicca thundered. "Off with you!"
They did not listen but it was at his point her betrothed and true love, Joffrey approached them. He sharply shoved Boudicca aside, the woman grunted at him, gifting him a look of disdain but when her eyes flickered to Joffrey's face, her blue eyes meeting his emerald green, everything else did not matter to her. He reached up and placed a gentle hand on her rose coloured cheek, stroking her face softly with a leathered thumb.
"Do not fear, my Lady. I will protect you," Joffrey said softly before he turned to face the crowd. "Leave us! You are causing my betrothed discomfort!"
The crowd departed and Sansa felt immediate relief, calling over Lady. She was finally at her Prince's side. She turned to thank Boudicca but noticed the woman had disappeared, though it was most likely due to being slighted at the fact Joffrey had shoved her. Joffrey held out his arm to her and she nervously accepted his arm, giving him a shy look.
Joffrey smiled charmingly at her as they began to walk, her notions of having lemon cakes with the Queen and her young children had gone. She was thrilled that he had asked to take her on a walk alongside the river bank and wondered, thinking back to Arya, if they would discover any rubies during their walk together. Her smile remained wide when she took in his blond hair that was like silken gold underneath the bright sun and his green eyes, like glittering jewels. Joffrey looked like one of the heroes in her songs. Occasionally, Joffrey would take a swig from the skin of wine he was carrying and offered some to her.
"I should not," Sansa insisted hesitantly. "My father only lets us drink a single cup at sup."
"You are my betrothed. And my betrothed can drink as much as she wants," Joffrey urged.
Sansa's cheeks reddened and she accepted the skin but only took a small sip. As she and her Prince walked along the Ruby Ford, the strange sound that they kept hearing, disrupting their peace grew nearer. Sansa looked over towards the river and saw Arya and Mycah fighting with sticks. Though as laughter rang out, she knew that they were jesting.
"I am Ser Barristan Selmy-" Mycah stated as he whacked her sister with the stick. "And I will defeat you."
"I am Boudicca!" Arya shouted with glee as they both laughed. "And I will end you!"
"What is going on here?" Joffrey asked with a sneer on his face.
Sansa stilled, her lips leaving the skin of wine when she noticed the wicked gleam in his eyes. His voice caught her sister and the butcher boy's attention. Mycah immediately dropped his stick and gave an awkward, stumbling bow to her betrothed. However, her younger sister stared at Joffrey with such an intensity that she never knew her sister could possess.
"Go away," Arya demanded. "Leave us be!"
"Who are you, boy?" Joffrey inquired, ignoring Arya and turning to face Mycah.
"M-Mycah," Mycah stuttered, his frightened eyes remained on the ground.
"He is the butcher's boy," Sansa informed Joffrey but looked on warily.
"Oh, I see-" Joffrey said, a grin spreading across his face. "A boy who picks fights with girls and wants to play knight. Is that right, boy?"
"N-No, m-mi'lord," Mycah stammered, her eyes widened in fear when she saw Joffrey unsheathe Lion's Tooth.
"I am no Lord, I am a Prince. I want you to pick up your sword then," Joffrey sneers and stalks towards the boy. "Let us see how good you are."
"I-It is not a sword, my Prince. It's only a wood stick," Mycah said frantically and began to back away.
"And you are not a knight," Joffrey leered and the tip of his sword came into contact with the boy's cheek. "Now. Do as I say."
"Please, my Prince," Sansa implored, looking on in fear at the events that slowly unfolded in front of her. "Please, do not hurt him. Let us continue our walk. We can leave my sister and her friend alone to their childish games. It would please me if we continued our-"
"I am the Crown Prince," Joffrey interrupted, turning to face her with a glare. "I do what I wish and I intend on teaching him a lesson. Besides, I won't hurt him much…"
Sansa winced at the look he gave her but he then turned his attention back to Mycah, pressing his sword further into the boy's cheek. Joffrey spoke with such malice, that it made the foreboding warning that Boudicca gave her become clearer as he pressed the edge of his blade against Mycah's cheek, causing blood to spill from the cut, trailing down the boy's freckled cheek.
"Leave him alone!" Arya shouted, charging for Joffrey.
Arya screamed with all her might and brought down the wooden stick, hitting Joffrey on the head. The Prince hissed and roared from the pain, he turned and started to swing Lion's Tooth at her sister. Much to Sansa's horror, Arya simply dodged his wild swings, keeping her distance from the Prince. He bellowed a string of curses that were cruel on her ears and made her heart pained. Out from the corner of her eyes, she saw the butcher's boy run away.
"You little bitch!" Joffrey seethed.
"Please!" Sansa begged, though her pleas fell deaf to their ears as they fought. "Stop this, both of you! You are ruining everything!"
Arya suddenly lost her footing when Joffrey swung harshly at her, he swung the sword like one would do an axe. Her sister lay on the ground, scrambling back as Joffrey advanced on her, his eyes burning with anger as he and his sword, pointing at her sister's chin loomed over her. Her breath hitched as she looked on fearfully. He wouldn't actually hurt her, would he? Sansa thought with panic, wishing that she had brought the horn with her.
"I'll gut you for that, you little cunt!" He roared, spit flying everywhere but that is when Sansa noticed a flash of grey.
Nymeria, Sansa thought. The next thing she saw was Joffrey thrown to the ground. His sword arm was stuck between the powerful jaws of the golden eyed direwolf. Joffrey began to wail in both horror and terror before he collapsed to the ground fully, whimpering and writhing from the pain he no doubt was in. Arya called frantically for Nymeria and she watched on in horror, as Nymeria with her bloody muzzle trotted back to Arya. Arya bent down and picked up Lion's Tooth and menacingly pointed it at Joffrey.
"Arya!" Sansa screamed, looking on fearfully. "Arya! Leave him alone! Stop it!"
"Don't worry," Arya said, a mocking tone in her voice. "I won't hurt you, much."
"N-No," He pleaded, fear in his eyes. "P-Please, don't hurt me! Please…"
Instead, Arya turned and threw Lion's Tooth into the river with all the might in her small body and with a light splash, Arya and Nymeria ran for the woods as fast as they could. And with her sister gone, Sansa rushed over to Joffrey and knelt by her Prince's side. Sansa worriedly took in his wound though it was not just the fact Nymeria and Arya had attacked the Prince, that had her worried. He had shown the side of himself that Boudicca had talked about, while she was glad that Arya was not her. She knew she must help her betrothed.
"My Prince…look at what they did to you," Sansa gasped, looking at him with concern. "Stay. I will go back to the camp and bring help."
"Then go!" Joffrey sneered, she reached out to comfort him but he snatched his arm away and leered at her. "Do not touch me."
Boudicca Baratheon
Dear Boudicca,
While I cannot hide my relief that we weren't to be married sooner, I am disappointed however that you had to leave for King's Landing, instead. I had desired to get to know you more, especially if we are to be husband and wife. I look to the night's sky and the moon, and I think of you. I think of that night. If I come across as blunt, please tell me so, but I desire to kiss you again. The next time I do, I fear that I will not be able to let go. I hope that one day you will be proud to bear the same name as I, as House Stark. You will return to me, however long it takes and until then, I will wait for you.
Sorry if I sounded too vague or blunt, Theon is currently looming over my shoulder. He sends his greetings, as does Grey Wind. He misses you.
As do I,
Robb.
Boudicca smiled down at the letter, feeling her cheeks unwillingly redden and she cursed herself for acting like such a maid. She chuckled half heartedly and folded the piece of parchment and tucked it into the black sleeve of her tunic for safe keeping. Then she turned her attention to the small silver pendant he had sent her and was reminded instantly of his direwolf, Grey Wind. It was a silver head of a wolf with a small shine to its eyes, while it was simple in design, it was the most beautiful piece of jewellery she had ever seen. It was more beautiful than any of the rubies her mother wore. The necklace represented and showed the more peaceful and kinder life she would come to live when she journeyed back to Winterfell.
Even in his letters…he is kind, Boudicca thinks to herself.
Boudicca's head snapped up at the sound of bushes rustling near her and she stared at the bushes intently, her smile instantly falling. She stood, tying the pendant around her neck and slowly approached, keeping her hand wrapped around her sword as she walked towards the bushes with hostility. Boudicca reached out and very carefully pulled back the branches and leaves. A frown made its way onto her face.
"Arya?" Boudicca asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Arya emerged from the bushes and lunged for her, wrapping her arms around her waist tightly.
"What happened?" She questioned, kneeling beside the girl and pulled the twigs and leaves from her hair. "Are you alright?"
"No," Arya said stiffly, shaking her head. Boudicca sighed at the sniffing girl and hoisted her up.
"Was it Joffrey?" Boudicca inquired, the silence she was greeted with confirmed her suspicions.
As they made the short journey back, Boudicca asked her what had happened. The more Arya told her story, the angrier her feelings were towards Joffrey. She knew that her brother most likely lied like he always did but she nevertheless congratulated the girl on beating up her brother. They finally made it to the outskirts of the campsite, just as the sky began to darken, informing her that it would be night soon.
And by this time, Boudicca was covered in dirt and her boots were layered in mud that she could not even see the black leather. Boudicca hoisted the girl further up, letting the girl's body rest on her back as she journeyed to Lord Eddard's tent. The moment she entered, the man's worried grey eyes fixated on Arya. Boudicca set the girl down, who immediately ran to her father. Ned approached, pulling his daughter into a tight hug.
"Thank you," Lord Stark said with a curt nod. "You have my gratitude for this."
"No need," Boudicca insisted. "However, I am glad I found her before my mother or the Hound did. What will you do now?"
"I need to get her cleaned up. Then I will face your mother and father, I suppose," Lord Eddard replied gruffly and swallowed loudly. "I will be back in a moment."
"Do not mind, Joffrey, Arya," Boudicca said as Ned hurriedly left the tent, no doubt calling for the Septa. "He's a little shite. He was born a shite, he will live the life of a shite and with all the shite he speaks, he will most likely die from choking on shite. And shites like him, they try to tame us. As we grow older, they always try to find a way to make us into a perfect, obedient Lady. Duty. Marriage. Children. But we, we are the strong ones. Not them."
