"We're lost," Joanna complained to Harrold on their third day of travelling. "Harrold, you have no idea where we are and I have no idea. We need to find an inn and try to work it out."

"Finding an inn is too dangerous," Harrold shook his head, refusing to listen to his sister and her complaints. "We cannot risk seeing anyone. The Northerners would want us and then Robb Stark would want our heads."

"Do you believe that?" Joanna snapped at him.

Harrold remembered when he had been stabbed in the leg. He recalled how Robb Stark had sat by his bedside and gave him what he had needed to heal. He remembered how they had laughed and joked with each other. Robb had been horrified at their position, but they both knew that they could not be friends after war had started. They fought on different sides, regardless of how much Harrold hated his side.

"I believe that Robb is a man of honour and duty," Harrold said to his sister, standing still and taking hold of her by her elbows. "I know that if we were returned to him then he would not want to kill us, but he would. He would do what is expected of him. The fact that you are married to his bastard brother does not matter."

Joanna winced once Harrold had mentioned Jon. Harrold had watched his sister cry demurely, her mind thinking about the bastard she had fallen in love with. She had left him a letter, but she doubted he understood. Joanna had no other option than to go with her family, but now her parents had been lost and Harrold had no idea where to go.

"So where should we go?" Joanna decided to ask from him. "If we keep riding south then we might make it, but we have no idea what direction south is."

"Finding an inn is risky," Harrold warned his sister, but Joanna shook her head slowly.

"Not if just one of us goes in," she promised him. "We're twins. That is obvious whenever we are together, but when we're separated? No one knows us then."

Harrold considered his sister's proposal for a moment and she cocked a brow to him. He could not deny that her idea did not seem as stupid as he had initially thought. It took a moment before he nodded. He was cold, hungry and he knew he smelt worse than a pig. If he could secure a flagon of wine and a roll of bread then he would have achieved something.

"Fine," he said, running a hand along his chin which was now covered in stubble. "But I will go in. You can wait in the forest somewhere."

"We need to find an inn first," Joanna reminded him.

They spent the rest of the day riding until they finally came across a rickety building of some kind. Joanna hid in the tree line with the horse whilst Harrold entered the inn.

He looked around, grateful that it was fairly empty for the afternoon. He knew that he had no coin on him. He had nothing to pay for anything. That was where he failed to succeed. He left empty handed and Joanna glanced to him with wide orbs. He looked to his sister and shook his head.

"Are there men inside?" Joanna demanded from her brother.

"A few," he nodded. "Why?"

"Because I haven't eaten in three days and I'm starving," Joanna said. "We have no idea how to catch fish or live on rabbit. We need food Harrold...food...and directions."

Harrold watched as his sister ran her hands through her matted golden locks and tugged at the simple blue gown she wore. She pulled it down to reveal more of her breast and Harrold looked shocked at his sister as she pulled some strands of hair to rest on her chest.

"No," Harrold said to her. "I am not going to let you go and whore yourself out to any man."

"I'm not going to fuck them," Joanna snapped and Harrold wondered if she had ever said such an obscenity. "I'm going to play them like a fool. Men are fools as soon as they see a good pair of-"

"-Joanna," Harrold interrupted and she laughed shrilly at his reddening cheeks.

"Such a prude," she teased him and ran off before he could catch up with her.

She entered the inn and Harrold remained outside for a moment, catching his breath and wondering how to look inconspicuous. He had just been in the inn a moment earlier. If he went back in he would surely be thrown out again. He inhaled sharply and cursed his sister before moving to an open window and listening with intent, hiding underneath its sill.

Joanna entered the bar and scoured the area, wondering which man would look at her the most. She knew how to play things to her advantage when she needed to. She was not immune to the way men looked at women. She had watched the King often enough. She thought that all men were the same as him, but Jon had been different. He had looked at her like she was more than a piece of meat made just for him.

But the men in the bar didn't.

Joanna pushed Jon from her mind and raked another hand through her hair before wandering the length of the inn, knowing how to play this to advantage.

"So, which one of you is going to buy a girl some food and show her a good time?" Joanna called out, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She looked around with haste, her brows arched and her chest heaving.

"Aye," a man called up and Joanna looked across to him as he sat in the corner of the inn, a jug of wine in front of him. "Come here, love, I'll show you what you want."

Joanna gulped and nodded, sauntering over to him and settling down next to him on the bench. All she needed was a few coins. She perched on the edge of the bench, moving her elbow to the table and letting her cheek drop into her hand.

"And what should I call you?" Joanna asked.

He was a tall man with enough weight on him to stop him from catching Joanna when she ran. His hair was long and rugged down his back and his teeth were slowly rotting as he shot her a smirk.

"Gureth," he told her. "And what should I call you, beautiful?"

"Oh," Joanna said with a coy smile. "You can call me what you want."

"Whore doesn't seem worthy of such a beauty," he warned her.

Joanna wanted this to be over with as soon as possible. She noted the pouch he wore on his belt and she suspected it jingled with coins.

"Meredith," she whispered lowly, thinking of any name she could. "So, Gureth, what brings a man like you to these parts of the wood?"

"I'm heading to King's Landing," he informed her. "There's a bounty on the head of the Kingslayer. I'm hoping to catch him before he reaches the Capital and bring him back to the North."

"A bounty hunter," Joanna said with a small nod. "And a true Northerner."

"Aye," he agreed with her and she moved closer to him.

Joanna felt bile inside of her as she thought of what Jon would say if he could see her now. But she had to do something. She had to make it to King's Landing and she had to survive. Her mother and father were lost, but Joanna knew that they had to come back. No, Joanna had to keep her and Harrold alive and she knew just how to do that.

She moved so that her chest was pressed against his side, her breasts almost spilling over her dress as she wrapped one leg around one of his and grinded against his hip. She moved her hands to his chest and placed her lips close to his ear.

"They say the North breeds hard men," she whispered, slipping her hand down his chest until she reached his crotch. "And it seems they are right."

He looked down to her and Joanna wondered where Harrold was. She hoped he had stayed outside and hidden. It would look too suspicious for him to enter now.

Gureth reached for her wrist and trailed his hand up her arm and over her waist. Joanna kept calm as his fingers ran down her stomach and in between her legs, cupping her intimately through her clothes.

"And how wet are you?" he asked of her and she pushed herself further into his hand.

"Very," she lied to him.

He chuckled and moved his head closer to hers, his lips slowly running down her neck and Joanna forced a moan out as his lips trailed over the swell of her breasts and she knew that she was attracting too much attention.

"Take me outside," Joanna whispered to him, knowing that she could easily get him where she wanted and take his money. "Take me outside and fuck me."

He could hardly contain himself as he pushed her from the bench and his hand grabbed at her backside. He ushered her outside and towards the barn. His hands were on her in a matter of moments and Joanna felt a wall behind her.

"Such a dirty little whore, aren't you?" he whispered into her ear and she almost rolled her eyes as she pushed at his chest and regained control.

He didn't seem to mind as she pushed him into a post in the middle of the barn, her hands fiddling with the laces to his breeches.

"Perhaps," she answered him as she felt his breeches begin to fall and her fingers tugged at the pouch of coins before the breeches could fully fall. She pulled the pouch off and kept them in her fingers before running her hand down to his crotch again.

He groaned lowly and Joanna suddenly kneed him before she could touch his crotch. He doubled over and Joanna stood tall, cocking a brow before she noticed her brother stood behind the man, a spade in his hands.

"You bitch!" Gureth cursed Joanna.

Harrold brought the spade down on Gureth's head and the man didn't even stir from the unconsciousness Harrold had brought upon him.

"I had that under control," Joanna promised her brother.

"And did you think that I would let him touch you anymore than he had done? I saw you in the inn. You're never to pull a stunt like that again," Harrold demanded from her, tossing the spade to the side and taking hold of her by the wrist.

"It got us the money, didn't it?" she checked, dangling the money in Harrold's face as he dragged her back into the forest. "I did what needed to be done."

"Well, I don't like it," Harrold said. "You're my sister. The thought of Jon Snow running his hands over you is bad enough...but some random bastard? I don't like it."

"You don't need to like it," Joanna promised, quickly kissing him on the cheek. "You just need to enjoy the meal we're going to eat tonight. And we're on the right path. He was heading south before you knocked him unconscious."

"Well, that's one good thing."

"But he was trying to find father. There's a bounty on his head."

"And there's the bad news."

...

Elena watched on as her husband sat on his own horse and she remained tied up on a separate one. The man behind her hadn't touched her inappropriately, which had pleased her more than she cared to admit. She had watched Jaime be forced to wear his discarded hand around his neck and she had felt sick.

She had snarled at Locke to leave him alone, but he had barely listened to her. Jaime hadn't looked at her since he had lost his hand and he was weak. Elena could see that much. He was struggling to stay on top of his horse and he wasn't even responding to the taunts which were being thrown his way.

"How many fingers do you think we can stick up his arsehole?" Locke yelled and Elena winced at the crudeness. "Is that the kind of thing you and your sister go in for, Kingslayer? Your wife seems too proper for that."

Elena didn't watch as Jaime fell from his horse and tried to defeat the men who threatened to take hold of him again. She had yelled for him to be left alone, but she had been ignored and restrained. He had fallen to the dirt and Locke had relished seeing that. A tear had slid down her cheek as she watched him on the ground. She turned away and ran her hand down her cheek, trying not to think about how pathetic she looked.

It was only at night when she was left with him and she noticed that he wasn't eating his bread roll.

"You need to eat," she whispered to him, kneeling by his side as he knelt on the floor.

"Why?" Jaime asked, his voice broken and the mud still dripping from his cheeks and clinging to his hair and beard. "I'm dying, Elena. I can tell."

"No," Elena said forcefully as she looked to him, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. "You are not dying, Jaime."

He said nothing back to her. He only managed to bring his gaze to hers and he could see the tears forming in her eyes. Why was she crying? She had already admitted how much she detested him. His death should not hurt her.

"You need to try to survive," Elena warned him. "You have two children who are lost somewhere. What would they say if they knew their father didn't try to live?"

"Harrold cannot stand me," Jaime reminded his wife.

"You are still his father," Elena reminded him. "He...he still loves you. And Joanna risked everything to set you free. She is your little girl. She is your daughter and you would do anything for her. Do you not want to hold her to you again? Do you not want to be there when Harrold marries for love? Or when Joanna needs you because someone has upset her?"

Jaime gulped and thought back to his children. He then looked down to his hand.

"A hand does not define you," Elena informed her husband as if she could tell what he was thinking.

"And you?" Jaime dared to ask. "Do you want me to keep going?"

"Of course I do," Elena said without hesitation.

"Why?" Jaime whispered back to her, doing his best not to let his eyes close and sleep take hold of him. "I've done so much to you...hurt you..."

Elena felt the tears stream down her cheeks now and she looked down to her lap, sniffing as Jaime continued to stare at her. He moved his good hand to her hands, curling his dirty fingers over hers, wondering if she would take his hand back. She made no movement, but he did feel her hands shake as he rested his over hers.

"I don't know about us," Elena whispered. "You...you destroyed everything we had...you ruined it all...and then you tell me that you do love me. You have to understand why I'm so confused, Jaime. Nothing you do seems logical...but if you truly want me then you have to survive. You need to survive and fight...fight for your life...my trust...your family...everything..."

Jaime looked to her and Elena felt horrible.

"So there is a chance?" Jaime asked from her and Elena wondered if all of his faith rested on her saying yes. His eyes were narrowed and it certainly looked as if her answer meant everything to him.

"Yes," she lied to him. "So eat and stop being so bloody selfish."

Jaime picked the bread roll up and Elena felt his hand leave hers. She clenched her fingers together and pushed them to her stomach. She didn't know if there was anything left for Jaime to salvage with her. She didn't know how she felt for him, but she did know that she couldn't let him die. She would never forgive herself if that happened.

...

A/N: I'm so happy people are still reading this story! It only just occurred to me how long it is and we're only in the third season! So thanks so much to everyone reading and I hope you'll stick with me!