They arrived back at their encampment without any further drama, Lord Stark ordering his men to prepare hot water and baths for himself while the Lannister men did the same for her, and for their clothes to be washed. Lords Starks attire was much worse for wear than hers, dried blood, gore and some unidentifiable bits still clung to his clothes and brigandine.
The trot back to their camp had been mainly in silence, the evidence of the butchery that Lord Stark had carried out seemed to have subdued the Red Cloaks.
Her father had engaged Lord Stark in some conversation about what had happened, even going so far as to rebuke the young northerner over placing her in danger. She snorted, 'placing her in danger', no, more like 'placing his alliance with Lord Stark in danger' she knew.
She had to wait a little while as sufficient water for a bath had to be heated before she could strip from her clothing and sink into the small bath tub in her tent. Though it could only very charitably called a 'bath tub', more like a large bucket if truth be told. Cersei knew she would normally bristle at having to be subjected to such an ignominy but she readily lowered herself into the water and allowed her handmaidens to scrub and bathe her. The more she got cleaner the more angry she got an Lord Stark, the great oaf had nearly gotten her killed, she commanded her maids to lay out her most 'Lannister' of clothes and to do her hair up into the style she favoured most, she was going to have 'words' with her intended over this incident!
Once she had dressed in a style more appropriate to her status as a daughter of a Lord Paramount and with her hair coifed to her liking Cersei exited her tent, two ladies in waiting accompanying her, along with six Red Cloaks.
She made her way across the encampment to where the Stark contingent was camped, interestingly Lord Stark had insisted on a small ditch and palisade being constructed to surround the camp, he had did that every night that they had not stopped in Castle, Hold Fast, Inn or Tavern. She had heard the Red Cloaks scoff at it, a shallow ditch, with soil piled behind it and some sharpened stakes atop it, hardly an obstacle they had joked, easy for them to storm, never mind for their horse to break into at a gallop if needed.
But Lord Stark had persisted and had ordered his men to ignore the jibes from the Lannister's. Approaching the 'gate', simply a break in the 'wall' with a section of ditch, mound and palisade thrown up in front of it.
"I wish to speak to Lords Stark!" she announced to the guards, a group of scruffy looking northerners.
"Lord Stark is busy with his ablutions milady, if you would like to wait a moment or two?" one responded.
"You impertinent curr! Stand aside at once, I wish to see my betrothed NOW!" Cersei screeched and strode forwards, the Red Cloaks dropping their hands as a man to the hilts of their swords.
"As you wish" sighed the northern guard as he and his fellows stepped aside and let Cersei enter.
Inside the walls the tents, though of various sizes and shapes, were all drawn up in ordered rows, and at the centre of the camp the tent of Lord Stark, hardly very much bigger than the tents of rest and nothing nearly as grand as her tent and a veritable minnow of tents compared to the pavilion that her father had.
She and hers pulled up in front of the tent; two Stark guards were posted outside.
"Well? Are you not going to announce me?" Cersei snarked in her most testy voice, the check and impertinence of these northerners!
"Lord Stark is not here milady" announced one of them, in an accent so think she had trouble understanding it.
"And just where is my husband to be then?" she shot back.
She noticed the two guards make the quickest of glances at each other, the one who was silent so far trying but failing to keep the slightest of smirks off his face.
"Lord Stark is behind his tent" the guard gestured.
"Well now, was that so difficult?" asked Cersei in her most condescending voice and she stepped around the guards and around the back to the tent. To be confronted with the naked form of Lord Stark, his back to her, emptying a bucket of hot water over his head.
"Oh!" gasped Cersei as she came to an abrupt stop, little gasps of surprise also escaping the mouths of her ladies in waiting, one of whom actually failed to stop and bumped against her back, nearly sending her sprawling into the ground.
Ned Stark shook his head, discarding the bucket, several others lay off to one side and brought his hands up to his face to push his sodden hair away from his face, turning his head to look over his shoulder he remarked "My Lady, you have me at a significant disadvantage, I am unrobed" Ned's eyes flicked over the Red Cloaks "and unarmed."
A titter escaped the mouth of one of her Ladies in Waiting while all she could say was "I, ah, well, ummmh, ahh…"
She could not string a sentence together, fumbling over what to say, her gaze riveted to the naked form of Lord Stark, he moved, reaching out to grab a small towel that hung from one of the ropes that help up his tent. Cersei swore she caught a glimpse of something dangling between his legs that nearly reached his knees as he moved, before he wrapped the inadequately sized towel around his waist and turned around.
"At least let me get dressed my Lady?"
"Ah, yes, of course, yes Lord Stark, yes, please get dressed…"
"Ladies" he sketched a bow before moving around them, she turned to notice that the Red Cloaks part to let him through, and she followed him to stand once more outside the front of his tent, hearing him rummage around inside as he dressed. The two guards were staring off into space and manfully avoiding making eye contact with her, as she glared at them in a fuming anger.
Lord Stark emerged in boots, grey woollen pants with a sword belt buckled up and an arming sword and dagger hanging from it. A white linen shirt covered his torso, the strings at the front undone and showing an expanse of broad, deep chest. Behind her one of her ladies in waiting let out an involuntary gasp, she whirled her head to give the girl a stare of pure hatred before return her gaze to Lord Stark.
"A little undressed for the early evening are you not Lord Stark?" she asked, her mouth quirking into an ironic smile.
"Ah, but I had to hurry my Lady, for I did not want to keep such a vision of Lannister beauty waiting long. And the air is yet still warm, a cloak or a jerkin is not needed, and if I am cold I can be warmed by the radiance of your loveliness my Lady" he grinned at her.
Gah! The insufferable Ned Stark was back with a vengeance she saw, probably because he was on his own territory.
"Lord Stark, I would have you walk with me, we have matters to discuss…"
An eyebrow rose above a cool grey eye "of course my Lady, you wish is my command."
Cersei shook her head in frustration, her eyes flashing in anger but Lord Stark seemed completely unfazed by this.
"Sure you have enough Red Cloaks to protect you?" he asked as they stepped through the camp and exited it by the way they had came.
She raised a perfectly plucked and shaped eyebrow at Lord Stark.
"I mean six of them? I'd take them out with one hand while taking a piss…."
"Mind your language!" barked one of the Red Cloaks, before he realised just who he had addressed.
The party stopped and Ned turned around slowly, advancing into the Red Cloaks before he stood nose to nose with the man. The air itself rippled and the tang of violence hung heavy in the air, Cersei shuddered as a familiar fear gripped her, the fear that she had experienced earlier on that day.
Lord Stark tilted his head, looking at the Red Cloak "If you are going to roar little lion, you better be prepared to bite…" and in a blur Ned had drawn a knife and pressed it up against the chin of the Red Cloak "The rest of you draw your swords and I'll gut you!" Ned said calmly in the deathly silence, a silence only broken by a wet splashing sound and the whimpers of the Red Cloak that Ned held the dagger to. The sharp scent of urine filled the air, Cersei realising with fright that the Red Cloak had just lost control of his bladder.
"I guess you are not prepared to bite little lion" said Lord Stark with a tone of disappointment in his voice, stepping backwards and sheathing his dagger.
He turned and smiled at Cersei, a smile that for all the world looked like a wolf sizing up its next meal "Now where were we, oh yes, you wanted to talk to me my Lady?"
Cersei swallowed, her throat gone suddenly dry, she squeaked "Yes", halted for a second to get her voice under better control and retried "Yes Lord Stark, would you care to dine with my Father and I tonight?"
"Why I would love to Lady Cersei, and I will even dress for the occasion! Oh and my Lady?"
"Yes Lord Stark?"
"When we are wed there will no need to be so formal eh? And if you want to share a wash with me, I would have no objections….."
Behind her both her ladies in waiting let out little gasps, and not of displeasure she noted sourly.