Hey everyone, I'm back!

Did you miss me? Just kidding.
I hope you're excited for the beginning of our adventures in Essos.
Personally, I loved writing this chapter, I'm introducing my first real OC character in a GOT fanfiction ^^.

Thank you to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed while I was on a break.

Enjoy!

Part III.1: Cycle of the Maiden

The Maiden dances through the sky,
she lives in every lover's sigh.
Her smile teaches the birds to fly,
and give dreams to little children.

Friggi and Sheepstealer landed a few leagues from Braavos, in a clearing in the middle of the forest. Sansa did not want to be parted from the dragons but she also knew it was wiser not to arrive in foreign territory atop beasts. Especially dragons in Valyria. Everyone knew the story of the Free City. In Westeros it was told to show the superiority of the Realm, because slavery was outlawed. Sansa thought that the fate of some of the poorer common folks was no different from the slaves, but anyway. To her, the story of Braavos represented the victory of humanity against barbary. Slaves of Valyria escaping and founding a great city. It was said they chose the location because it was isolated, surrounded by rocks and forests and perpetually hidden in mist. It was verified here. The mist and the forests at least, because once they found the pathway, it was no longer isolated.

In the flow of caravans, merchants, farmers and noble people, Sansa and Jon blended easily. They would need to find new clothes soon though, theirs might have been appropriate for the harsh North, but not for the climate of Essos. Braavos was one of the northernmost cities and yet, they were way too hot already.

Ghost and Lady kept the flow of onlookers away, but they did not seem to stun that much. After all, exotic animals were the norm for the rich and mighty here. They had seen two tigers walking beside palanquins of envoys from Yi Ti, a few monkeys on their masters' shoulder and at least a dozen parrots. Direwolves were not that surprising then, though they were feared, rightly so.

The road merged with others and widened on top of a rocky hill above the city. It was their first glimpse of it. From above, through the mist, they saw the colourful tiles of the roofs. There were plenty of architectural styles in this city. The centre of the harbour was in a Valyrian fashion that resembled what Sansa knew of Dragonstone. There were houses that looked straight out of King's Landing. Others were more exotic, probably inspired from other Essosi places. She knew also of a lot of temples. Some of them, one could not even tell that they were sacred places, they looked like normal homes. For others, it was clear. Like the Sept with its star, stained glass and seven windows. Sansa could also see the titan of Braavos, a sculpture as high as the sept of Baelor in King's Landing. It was said it could move and crush Braavos' enemies sailing into the harbour. Arya had told her the truth a long time ago. It was just a statue, but soldiers hid in it. If an enemy approached, they would throw rocks at them from above. They were the ones who sunk the ships. Within the harbour, Sansa saw many islands, connected by boats or bridges of all sorts. She had heard many of the isles were not natural, they were man-made. She could not verify that from afar but intended to once they reached the city.

"It is magnificent, is it not?" Jon whispered in her ear.

"Aye." Sansa nodded. "I feel like Arya, wanting to explore everything and live countless adventures in this city. Even though she did tell me it was dangerous." She chuckled lightly.

"I agree, though I think we ought to change first, I'm boiling." Jon smiled. It made Sansa laugh.

With a middle-sized ruby, she bought four dresses for herself and four outfits for Jon. They were in the style of Braavos. Flax linen tunics with silk breeches and silk vests for Jon and thin-strapped silk dresses with beaded short sleeved jackets for her. They burnt their clothes from the North, they were rags, and no one would have use of them in Braavos anyway. Jon had found them a decent inn. One that was not too luxurious, but well maintained. They did not wish to attract unwanted attention. He had rented two single bedroom chambers, across from each other at the end of a corridor. Yet, currently, they were both on Sansa's bed eating dried fruits Sansa had bought on her way back from the tailor.

Jon had picked the red and black vest to wear. "It's the first time I wear my House's colours." He reflected.

"The tailor said the silk is Yi Tish, the random square pattern is typical apparently." She informed him. "I thought you should wear them now that we are not in Westeros anymore."

"It was very thoughtful of you, thank you." Jon smiled. They fell into a comfortable silence, both of them enjoyed the warmness of the air and the feeling of a true feather mattress underneath them. How long had it been since they slept in real beds? Two years? They had slept in the wild ever since they left Winterfell. "How long do you think we will stay here?" Jon asked interrupting Sansa's thoughts.

"It depends how long it takes for us to gather information on your aunt and uncle." Sansa replied shrugging.

"Do you think we will? I mean, the Spider took years to find where they were wandering, and he is the Spider." Jon reflected. They had heard some of the conversation between her father and the king which only added to her own knowledge.

"No, he took years to tell the King, but I believe he knew for a long while before. He was a Targaryen supporter after all." Sansa corrected. "In any case, the Targaryen name still holds a lot of meaning, even in Essos. Many Essosi lords want to meet with the lost prince and princess so that they get a chance to get a stronghold in Westeros once Viserys makes his move. Others want them to give them to Robert. The well-informed and cunning men will know where they are."

"Why are we here Sansa?" Jon asked. They were in front of a huge double door. One side was white, the other was black. The door was the only peculiar feature of the building, otherwise, it was just a big house with little windows. It was located on an island. One that could only reach by boat. The island was so tiny that the building was the only thing on it. The atmosphere around the area was suffocating at best.

"This is the House of Black and White." Sansa replied. "The temple of the Many-faced God, the deity worshipped by the faceless men. You know of them, the guild of highly skilled assassins?" Jon nodded so Sansa resumed. "Arya spent years here, last time, I wanted to see what it looked like."

"Arya was a faceless man, was she not?" Jon asked looking at the door with an uneasy expression.

"She had their skills, but she quitted the order just before becoming a full member. I don't know much else, she rarely talked about her past." Sansa explained. "I think she was trying to protect us from it."

"I miss her."

"So do I." She acquiesced.

The silence was uncomfortable. After a few minutes, Sansa suggested that they go back to the mainly. At that, Jon could only agree eagerly. In the boat, as the dreaded building drifted away, Jon relaxed visibly – so did Sansa, but she had been less affected.

"I hear this city is the only place where there is a Weirwood tree in Essos." He commented. "And a godswood for that matter."

"It is, I believe."

"I never thought I would get married." Jon started to say. "I wanted to one to live with the name Snow by my fault. And I always thought that no woman in their right mind would wish to wed a bastard." Sansa's heart started to quicken. Why was he talking of weddings? Could he?... They had exchanged a few kisses on the way here, they were sweet, they were passionate, but never inappropriate. Jon's hands always rested on her small back, but never drifted to other places, and, as much as the kisses deepened, they did nothing more. "Now I'm a Targaryen, I can marry, and you know the only woman I ever want to marry is you." There, he had said it. Blood rushed to Sansa's cheeks. "But I cannot imagine doing it otherwise than in a Godswood."

"Are you saying you want to marry me now?" Sansa asked sheepishly.

"I thought about it." Jon shrugged as if it was nothing, but she saw the blush rising to his cheeks. "I mean, I think we would both be sad that we don't have our family here, but I doubt we will see them again soon."

Sansa nodded. "Maybe we could at least find yours. She suggested." He was right, the prospect of marrying alone was not one that excited her.

"We could." Jon smiled. "I love you, Sansa."

"And I love you, Jon." She replied. She leaned into him when he offered her his embrace. In fact, she did not know if she felt ready for marriage yet. And it was the first time she actually got a say in it. Not that she did not want to get married to Jon. It was her dream now. But the idea of… intimacy frightened her. She was younger now than when she had married Ramsay. She had already married Tyrion by the time she reached fifteen the last time but that marriage had never been consummated so it did not count – not really. The only thing she could remember about intimacy was the pain, the constant pain. The bruises creating blueish drawings on her skin and the daily aches. She had heard – mostly from Margeary – of how pleasurable the marriage bed could be. As calculating and manipulative as the little rose had been, she knew she could trust her on that. If only because she was not the only one to say so. Yet, it was too intimidating for her still.

For dinner, they entered one of the numerous taverns of Braavos, not too far from their inn. Sansa had discovered that the food in Essos was spicier than in the North, but not as much as in Dorne. Her tongue still remembered the burn of the peppers in the Dornish egg dish they had eaten for Joffrey's wedding last time.

"A flagon of Arbor Gold." Jon demanded to one of the serving wenches.

"Jon!" Sansa protested. It was not in their habit to drink, let alone drink Arbor Gold. This wine was a luxury Sansa had never experienced outside of King's Landing and even then, she rarely indulged.

"They say it's the best." He replied with an innocent smile.

"It is, but why would we order wine?" She chuckled.

"Well, I thought after our conversation earlier we could consider ourselves betrothed." He explained. "Robb had a feast for his betrothal. We cannot have a feast, but we can enjoy some wine to celebrate together."

Sansa looked at him with more love than she had ever felt, she thought her heart could burst from happiness. "I love the idea."

The food was good, the wine divine, and the conversation even better. She did not even notice the sun setting and dusk settling on the city. Everywhere around them, common people lit lanterns that casted long shadows on the walls and produced a yellowish light. A serving wench passed by their table to put a candle on it. Sansa barely paid attention to all that. She was lost in Jon's eyes. His smile mesmerized her, and his laugh was music to her ears.

She did not notice the bald man who had stopped by their table and was staring at them. Jon saw him first. He frowned but apparently the man did not want to leave. After a few seconds, Jon spoke.

"Did you need anything, friend?" He asked. It was then that Sansa turned to see him. The first thing she thought was Varys. The newcomer was bald with no beard, no moustache and no eyebrows. He was dressed in a style very similar to the Master of Whisperers, a kind of robe, made of light green fabric and fluid pants to go with it.

"I just wanted to confirm who you are." The man said with a smirk. He had the same tone Varys always had, bored and cryptic. "Jon Snow and Sansa Stark." He added.

Suddenly, Sansa had no wish to laugh anymore, and she cursed herself for having drunk so much wine. "Who are you?" She asked.

"Elie, from Lys." The man shrugged, probably because his name did not help. Lys was the place where Varys had been before coming to Westeros to serve the Mad King.

"Are you one of Varys' little birds?" She asked.

Elie grinned appreciatively. "It is said that you are a smart young woman, happy to see that the rumours were true." He declared. "I was one of his little birds long ago." He revealed. "At the time, he did not cut out their tongue and send them half a world away when they became useless. In fact, I never became useless, I left on my own to become his rival."

"You met in Lys?"

"We worked for the same brothel." A eunuch. "I was younger that he was, he taught me the value of secrets. People in our condition can dream of little more." He sighed. "I should probably inform him of your presence here." He said.

"You cannot do that!" Jon intervened immediately panicking.

"Why could I not?" He sounded amused.

"If you do, her father will send men after us to bring us back by force." Jon said. Elie's smile only widened.

"Her father? Not our father?" He noted. "Why should I care if they take you back to Westeros?"

Sansa's brain was working at full speed, trying to find an arrangement that would be beneficial to all of them. "Because we have secrets to. Secrets that could be of more value to you. And we could use your secrets as well. Who do you work for currently?"

"I sell secrets to the Lords of Braavos whenever they pay me. I work for myself, mostly." He shrugged. Sansa did not know if it was the truth, but at least it was something. "What information would you need, my Lady?" He asked. The title did not sound completely respectful in his mouth.

"We want to know where Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen are currently." Sansa demanded inspecting her nails.

"Why is that of importance to you?"

"A secret for a secret, is it?" She lifted a brow.

"I am merely curious, your family rebelled against theirs after all. The price for a secret such as this one shall be higher than the answer to my question." The man chuckled.

"I doubt that." Sansa looked at Jon for his approval.

Jon looked around them. They were in a tavern, brightly lit, with the guests speaking loudly and plenty of light. The best place to hide or tell secrets is a crowded, well-lit room. Sansa thought, no one would find them suspicious. "I am Lyanna Stark's son." Jon said casually.

The eunuch's eyes widened, he must have guessed the rest of the truth. "That would indeed be a valuable secret. Come to think of it, it makes more sense than you being Ned Stark's bastard. The Hand of the King is too honourable for such things. But do you have proof?"

"We do." Sansa intervened. "But you shall know of it once we have found his aunt and uncle." She informed him. Sheepstealer was a proof in himself.

"They are in Pentos, in Magister Illyrio's mansion to be precise." Elie replied. "How do you suggest paying me once you have found the Targaryens?"

"You could travel to Pentos as well. We might not be Lannisters, but we pay our debts, honour is paramount to a Stark." Sansa grinned. "Who knows? If you told us the truth, we might even take you in to work for us. We could use a few secrets." She said sipping at her wine. "Sit with us, Elie of Lys." She motioned to an empty chair which the man took and positioned at their table. "Are you hungry?" She asked.

Soon enough, the eunuch had a roasted quail in front of him. The conversation quickly turned around Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen. Sansa had to remind herself that the girl she would meet was not the dragon queen she had met in her last life. She was still an innocent girl, with no dragons and afraid of her brother. It was weird to think that by that date, the last time, Viserys and Daenerys' husband were both dead. It made her question the reasons behind Viserys' move the last time. She was very curious about the exiled prince.

"What is Prince Viserys like?" She asked. "Is he…" She did not finish. She had heard the rumours, the boy was his father reborn. Then, she had dealt with another 'Aerys the Third' in the past.

"Mad?" Elie completed. "He is a boy who grew up without his parents. No one ever loved him. I don't know many children whose parents were murdered or died horrible deaths and who turned out well. Not to mention, he was old enough to remember what his father had taught him by the time he was smuggled out of Westeros." He paused seeming lost in the past. "King Aerys was wary of his heir near the end of his reign. He accused Queen Rhaella of having corrupted your father." He turned to Jon. "He said she made him soft. So, he prevented her from being near Viserys. Instead, he spent a good amount of time 'teaching' the boy. He imprinted ideas on him that could not have been beneficial for the boy's sanity."

"And how is he with his sister?" Jon looked troubled by the man's picture of his uncle.

"He has always planned to marry her, though his 'advisors' have told him for some time that she shall be used as a pawn and married to get an army. Up until now, he has resisted." The eunuch answered. "The princess is probably the only one in the world who ever showed him some love. All around them dwell men who want them for their name, the gold they think they have or their blood."

"Their blood?!" Jon and Sansa exclaimed together.

The man chuckled, even though both young people did not see what could be funny in such a statement. "There are several religions here in Essos that call for blood. R'hlor, some deities in Lys, the religion of the Warlocks of Quarth. The more powerful the blood is, the better. The blood of Old Valyria is very powerful, or so they believe. Varys and myself were cut for one of their blood sacrifices, then left out to die." He explained with a shrug.

"It feels disgusting and wrong." Sansa commented.

"I agree my Lady." Elie nodded. "Thankfully, none of the Targaryen's host worshipped those gods."

"Who did they stay with?" Jon asked. Sansa had not expected him to be so curious of his lost family, but he probably craved a family. In her head, she was older than he was and used to have her family slaughtered or exiled or kept prisoner, but he was not. He was still barely a man and he had yearned for a real name and a real family all his life. She hoped he would not be disappointed when he met his uncle and aunt.

"At first, one of the Kingsguard travelled with them. he sold his services as a sellsword to cover their needs. He died when Prince Viserys was eleven. They stayed in Braavos for a year, in the Sea Lord's fourth wife's mansion, until her husband discovered them and had them kicked out. It turns out the lady had… peculiar tastes. She had taken a liking in Viserys." Sansa gasped, she feared she had understood what he meant, but Viserys had been a boy then… "They travelled to Volantis with some exiled knights from Westeros, who died stupidly when they were unable to repay their gambling debts in Volantis. There, they stayed for four years. First with Master Hagyr, then Master Volor, then Mistress Abidi, or was it Mistress Segav? I don't remember the order. Master Fanol harboured them for a few months and finally Prince Aol. But Viserys angered the Prince and they were thrown out of the city. Then, I lost sight of them for two years, Varys knew they were safe, but he would not tell me. I found them in Pentos. They have been guests in Magister Illyrio's mansion for five years."

Sansa frowned. "Why does Magister Illyrio house them for so long?" She asked.

"I would not know." Elie replied. Both Jon and Sansa raised a brow that said 'we do not believe you'. "I have my guesses. Like any other Magister of Pentos, Illyrio does what he does for one of two reasons. Either money or revenge. Varys has been counselling him for way longer than he has counselled the Crown. I would not be surprised if he told Illyrio that the Targaryens were good investments."

"Why would he?" Jon was confused.

It was Sansa who answered. "He wanted to keep all of his options open. If Robert or his line did not turn out well for whatever schemes the Spider has, he would have had the Targaryens re-installed on the Throne. Hence, he needed someone to protect them."

"Clever girl." The eunuch commented with a smile. "Which also leads me to think that he does not know of you, young man. Either that or you are lying."

"He has very little power in the North." Sansa commented. "His little birds are not built for the harsh cold." The man laughed as if she had told a great joke. "Will you inform him though?"

"I won't." Elie replied, serious again. "As I have said, we had some disagreements which led me to be blind as to the Targaryens' movement… I want my revenge, I want to know something he does not. I shall tell him you were spotted in Braavos though. It should keep him occupied while we are in Pentos."

"You're going too?" Sansa asked with a triumphant smile.

"I am." He tore a piece of meat from the leg bone of the quail.

The eunuch Elie had convinced Jon that they should rent a comfortable carriage with servants to drive it. If it had been up to Jon, Sansa and him would have taken to the skies on their dragons. He did not like to be separated from them, though, through their bond, it was not too hard to communicate even if it became harder with the distance. The dragons followed them, remaining hidden for now.

Sansa had been easier to convince, it had been ages since she enjoyed some luxuries in life, and she found the eunuch to be very entertaining company. He did not unsettle her as his friend Varys did. Maybe it was because he was more honest, blunter. It could probably explain why he was only one of Varys' "little birds" and not the Master of Whisperers himself.

He told them of his story, his childhood – and a little of Varys' – in Essos. He had been born to a rich tradesman and lived in happiness and relative luxury until his sixth name day. Then, his father's second wife had cast a plan to get rid of his mother and him. He did not know why exactly – he had been too young – but one day he had been sold out to priests by his own father. He had prepared himself for a life of servitude, but instead, a mere day after he was bought, he had been cut. His 'masters' left him to die in an orphanage reserved for the lowest of the low. Varys had still been there. He was twice as old as Elie. He had managed to save the young boy, apparently, he was one of three the Spider had managed to save. By that time, the Spider had already stopped stealing goods and moved on to secrets. He taught the three eunuchs all he could at first, but then he started to act more and more as their leader, not telling them who they worked with nor the biggest secrets. Over the years, the two others had died, and Varys changed his ways. He employed young children from the streets and paid them with sweets. Elie described to them how he had retched over when he first saw what Varys did to his little birds once they reached their twelfth name day. He cut out their tongue and gave them a small pouch of gold. Some died, some disappeared, the point remained that Elie did not see any of them again. In his early twenties, the Spider moved to Westeros, giving Elie the charge of Essos. They frequently exchanged letters for the next twenty years or so. Elie grew richer, but little did he know that the Spider was becoming wary of him. Then, seven years ago, Varys cut most of his contacts with him. It was not sudden, he did so little by little. They still exchanged a letter per year to this date. But it had cut Elie's influx of gold. He had had to find other means to earn his meals. It was then that he had started to make himself an army of little birds himself. Recently he even had some in Westeros. In King's Landing, Gullstown and the Harbor mostly.

A good friend to have. Sansa thought. She would have to find a way to make him stay with them once they found Jon's uncle and aunt.

They reached Pentos after a month ride. Both of the dragons were complaining in their riders' heads that they were taking too long. On their backs, it would have lasted a little less than two days, probably. Friggi was also starting to be bothered by the heat. She flew higher up to try and get some freshness.

Pentos was a better organized city than Braavos. A better organized city than King's Landing too. The streets were straight, the houses arranged to form squares. It was built by the sea, the northern and eastern parts of the city were the poorest. But it was not anything like Flea Bottom, even the beggars looked cleaner. Whereas Braavos had been a colourful mix of culture, Pentos had its own architecture and style. In the common areas of the city, the houses had two or three levels. On the first floor, there were shops and taverns, most of them were directly open on the street, the weather was more forgiving than in Westeros. Elie explained that the families owning the shops and their slaves lived upstairs. When there were two more floors, one of them was reserved for the women. The richest of the tradesmen could afford a small garden in their houses. There was often an archway surrounding it and it was common of nobles and rich people to leisurely walk through the gardens while talking of philosophy or politics. Sansa noted that there was no junk on the streets. The paved ways were clean. The southern settlements of Pentos were the richest. It had been built on a hill facing the sea. There, the crammed houses with their small inner garden left place to luxurious villas with exotic plants and high walls around them. The Pentosi loved their columns, Jon remarked laughing. It was true that the villas seemed to compete for the highest number of richly made marble columns.

They walked further and further south through the city, until it was almost as if they were out of the city. They had climbed atop a cliff, to a high bronze portal guarded by two men wearing what Sansa thought looked like short leather skirts.

"This is Magister Illyrio's mansion." He declared pointing to a house that appeared even bigger than the ones they had passed before.

Joffrey Baratheon

Joffrey looked out to the sea bellow the Red Keep. As Crown Prince, his chambers had a gorgeous view out on the balcony. He was just a floor below his father's chambers. It would not change him much once he became King then. Not that he wanted his Father to die. Well, he wanted to be King, but he knew he would be one day, besides, he still had things to do as Crown Prince.

Finding his betrothed for instance. Hope had started to dwindle after a year and a few months ago, the Hand of the King – his betrothed's father – and his own father had started to talk of another betrothal for him. He had met countless young maidens, bedded some even. He did not care if it 'dishonoured' them or whatever would be said. He was Crown Prince, it was an honour for any woman to be deflowered by him. Of course, he would not marry any of them, his bride could not be anything less than pure. A few had caught his eye. Lord Piper's second daughter was comely enough, but a bore… The girl talked and talked on and on of the Seven of all things. Lord Hightower's granddaughter was beautiful, but she was too afraid to speak. He hated weaklings. The most magnificent of them was the Oaf of Highgarden's daughter. Though, his mother had advised him against choosing the girl, she was a whore according to the Queen. Joffrey would not have cared for his mother's opinion, if not for one small detail. The girl from the Reach's greatest shortcoming. She was not Sansa Stark. Her hair did not shine like copper. Her eyes were not innocent enough, nor blue enough. Her skin was pale, but not as pale as the Northern girl's. And she was not a Stark. There needed to be a Stark-Baratheon alliance.

Joffrey had refused to even consider a betrothal. Then, his grandfather, Lord Tywin had sent a letter. They used to say he was the most powerful man in the kingdoms. The Crown Prince did not really understand why. He had never been King. The Mad King refused to wed his heir to the Old Lion's daughter. Then, when the Rebellion happened, he hid under the Rock. Really, Joffrey did not understand how the old man could be considered powerful. Yet, he had sent a letter, all but commanding his grandchild to take a bride. He even had an opinion as to which maiden the future King should marry. His grandfather asked him to consider the Tarly girl, one he had yet to meet. He found no indication about the girl in the letter. Instead of praising the girl's beauty, Tywin went on about her father's prowess in battle. Joffrey did not care about the rantings of an old man, really.

All of that did not matter anymore though. The royal plans for a royal wedding had been halted the second Benjen Stark had been allowed into the Red Keep. It was still a wonder for Joffrey how the man had been allowed in looking like a beggar, but it was not the point. The man had seen his niece and – unfortunately – his nephew North of the Wall. Sansa Stark was not only an exquisite beauty, it seemed, she was also strong, how else could she have survived the harsh lands of the wildlings? He liked strong women, they made for more of a challenge. He just hoped she had not been defiled by any wildling, or the bastard. Now that he thought of it, he was not even sure it would matter to him if she was not pure.

They had left the red Keep two days ago. Benjen Stark and Lord Stark led the column. His father tried to quicken the pace as much as he could. It was much different than the last time they had travelled North. The fact that they brought no wheelhouse probably participated in the change. His mother had pleaded with her husband for Joffrey not to accompany them North. But Joffrey would not be left out like a mere child. He was a prince of the Realm. The Prince of the Realm. It was about time his mother understood that.

Joffrey moved to the front of the column to speak with his future good-father. "Lord Hand!" He heralded.

"My Prince." The older man gave him a slight nod after turning his neck to try and see who was talking to him. His brother bowed as well, but Joffrey did not acknowledge him. The man of the Night's Watch disgusted him.

"I hope Lady Sansa will be found safe and sound, my Lord. I long to see my betrothed." Joffrey said graciously.

"So do I, my Prince, but my brother believes my son and daughter will not cross the Wall with the wildlings." Yes, Joffrey was reminded, they were not travelling North for the Stark girl, they were travelling North to treat with wildlings. As stupid as it sounded. "They told Benjen they would not."

"No doubt my betrothed will have escaped her half-brother's evil claws by then. If not, I shall ask Father to have a few men to ride with me and look for her myself. I shall even bring you back the bastard alive if you wish." Joffrey offered. He wanted the bastard alive so that he could be executed publicly in King's Landing. That way, Lady Sansa's honour would be cleaned.

"Jon does not hold Sansa prisoner." The Hand's oaf of a brother commented. Joffrey sent him a warning look, but the idiot ignored it. "They seemed both happy and healthy."

"No doubt he used his bastard treachery and forced her to look happy to meet you." Joffrey scoffed with disdain.

Lord Stark did not open his mouth.

So what did you think? Did you like Elie?
What do you think will happen in Pentos?

Next week: Jon and Sansa are guests of Illyrio Mopatis. Guest POV: Viserys.

Guest reviews:

- I'm sorry if you found it random, I don't think it was that random and don't worry, Joffrey is still a psycopath.
The villainS will be revealed later.

- (Moshi) I know, but I don't remember the distinction being made in the show, so I tried to keep things simpler.

- (KitaN) I don't speak Spanish, but thank you very much for your kind comment.