The journey south passed much as it had done on the way up to Winterfell. The queen's wheelhouse was as slow as ever, as was the huge baggage train, all trundling along at agonisingly slow speeds, for league after league after league. Ren remembered the first time he had travelled down this way, aged four, riding down with his mother to Riverrun, sitting in front of her on her horse. That journey had seemed to go in a blink of an eye, his child self eagerly taking in all the new sights and sounds. This journey, on the other hand, felt like even more of an eternity than it had on the way north.

Ren spent most of the time riding with Loreon, often Tommen too, as the boy did not like to be left with his father without his bastard brother there. The black direwolf pup everyone called Crow - growing larger every day - ran beside his horse at times, and went off hunting with Arya and Sansa's wolves at others. Ren still wasn't sure why the creature seemed to like him so much, but he rather liked it being there. Even at such a young age, Crow was rather menacing. Sansa's Lady was sweet natured and docile, Arya's Nymeria was adventurous and fierce, but Crow was darker, taller and leaner than the rest, with a rather mean, hungry look in his yellow eyes. He also had somewhat of a temper, sometimes snapping at anyone who wasn't a Stark who got too close. As a result, Tommen tended to give Crow a wide berth, as did many others, and even Loreon and Jaime still gave the wolf wary looks every now and again.

Though Lizzie had left Winterfell with them, Ren rarely saw her before they made camp for the night. The girl didn't have a horse, so travelled in one of the wagons, far back in the column. She had laughed at him at the start and said they could ride pillion on his horse, but she had been joking, he was almost certain. Ren would've been fine with that arrangement, if he hadn't known Lizzie was too scared to get on a horse, never having ridden before at all. So he saw her in the evenings, mostly, after Jaime had dismissed him.

He didn't see Morganna much during the day, either; she was always riding with Princess Myrcella, who she had befriended against all odds. Ren had never paid much attention to the princess, save the few occasions she had come to see Loreon. She was a nice girl, pretty, and not nearly as vile as her twin Joffrey, but she seemed far too well behaved for his little sister to be interested in her. She must have had a hidden side, for Morganna rarely hung around with people who bored her, regardless of whether they were a princess or not. Sansa was still fawning over Joffrey. Apparently the way he had reacted to Edrick beating him up hadn't put her off at all, which was a shame. Whilst Ren had to admit the little shit could be charming when he wanted - and acted charming around Sansa - he knew it wouldn't last. He imagined that his innocent little cousin would find that out the hard way. Arya, on the other hand, was never to be found, darting throughout the column causing trouble and making friends with anyone and everyone. Her latest was a butcher's boy, Mycah, who Sansa turned her nose up at. Arya came back covered in leaves and dirt every evening, looking like she'd had the time of her life, babbling about exploring some place or other off the road.

Travelling through the Neck was always the worst part of the journey. The wheelhouse and heavy wagons got stuck in the muddy ground more times than could be counted, and sleeping on the ground at night was always rather damp. By the time they reached the Trident, the whole party was frustrated and irritable, the northmen because of the frustratingly slow pace and the southrons because of the boggy lands they had just gone through. Once in the Riverlands, things were somewhat better. The going got faster, conditions improved and there were far more inns where some of the party could sleep inside. That rarely included Ren, however, so he was largely indifferent to that. There was no chance of Crow being allowed inside too, and on the nights where the direwolf wasn't hunting, he seemed to like curling up next to - but not touching - Ren's bedroll. Loreon, who shared his tent when he hadn't found better company in one of the camp followers or a pretty village girl, found sleeping with the wolf there rather disconcerting. Lizzie, who shared his bedroll most nights, found it strange at first but got used to it after she realised Crow was unlikely to tear her to pieces in the night. Not if Ren was there, anyway.

That afternoon, they had made it to the castle of Raymun Darry, and were spending the night there. Like the many inns they'd passed, being there didn't make much of a difference to most of the party, given that the castle was not a particularly large one and there was only room for the higher status noble inside. The rest would still be sleeping in tents outside the walls as normal. Not a problem.

With Tommen, Jaime, his uncle, Arya, Morganna and Sansa all inside the castle, and Loreon taking up there tent with yet another girl - this one might have been a serving maid, he really was his father's son - Ren was left to himself. He knew exactly what to do with his time. Walking through the tents of the Stark men, well outnumbered by the Baratheon and Lannister colours, he scanned the crowds of people until he saw the familiar face he'd been looking for. She was talking to several young Baratheon soldiers, clearly flirting, one hand on her hip whilst the other played with the simple iron ring on a string round her neck - her grandmother's wedding ring, he knew - but when she saw him, the others were instantly forgotten. He had all her attention.

"Hello," Lizzie grinned her wicked grin, blue eyes sparkling, and he smiled faintly back. She grabbed his arm - he didn't object - and steered them both away from the group of now irritated men she had been leading on. "Got bored of all the lords and ladies?"

"Course," They walked through the tents, her still on his arm. He liked the height difference between them; they had always been a similar height when he had visited Winterfell as a boy (in fact, at one time he suspected she had even been taller than him) but now he stood at six feet, and was still growing, whilst she was an inch or so less than five and a half. "Not that they bother with the likes of me much," He didn't mind so much when people's eyes just moved passed him. It was when they treated him like a servant, or called him bastard, or cast judging eyes over him. One day, soon, he would be a knight and would get none of that. It couldn't come soon enough. Lizzie just snorted, and he glanced behind them. "You should be careful there," He eyed up the rather disgruntled men they'd just left behind. Lizzie's grin widened, but her eyes went cold. She wasn't a lady; she had the same stubborn pride and self-reliance that many lower born girls had and disliked the idea of being protected. Or told how to keep herself safe.

"Why do you care?" He knew what she wanted him to say, so didn't.

"Who said I did?" He smiled in faint amusement, and she elbowed him in the side.

"Bastard,"

"Exactly," He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't fancy seeing you after one of them has had a few and decided to knock you around some. Now, I'm wondering if you deserve it," She just laughed at that. She didn't have a pretty laugh like Sansa or the queen - hers was more of a cackle - and shook her head as they continued towards the edge of the camp, into the woods.

"I'm honoured,"


He had been sharpening Jaime's sword outside his tent when he saw the four children trudging past, looking rather worse for wear, two wolves skulking behind them. Crow, who was gnawing on a leftover pig bone beside him, rose when he saw his littermates approaching, trotting up and giving Lady a small nip before barrelling into Nymeria, knocking her off course. Ren frowned. Sansa was crying quietly, Arya had a look on her face that could only be described as pure rage mixed with white-faced terror. Tommen was pale, and covered in dirt, whilst Morganna...

"What the fuck is that?" He was on his feet in an instant, moving over to his sister. Sansa winced slightly at his rough language, but he ignored her, grabbing Morganna's face and tilting it sideways, ignoring her protests. "Who did that to you?" He'd kill whoever it was. Spreading across his little sister's face was a deep purple bruise, the skin broken in several places. You didn't get a bruise like that just from playing, that was worse than many of the injuries he had suffered in the training yard.

"Joffrey," Arya sounded as hysterical as she ever got, anger burning fiercely in her grey eyes alongside the fear. "He cut Mycah, so I threw his sword in the river and Nymeria nearly attacked him and - and - "

"Bloody hells," Ren cursed, cutting her off. Why the hells is Tommen with them? Sansa started crying again. "Where is that little prick now?"

"We left him in the woods," Morganna, of all of them, only looked slightly shaken as she tossed her hair. Rather unconcerned, to tell the truth, which told him all he needed to know about how bad the situation was. His sister didn't take anything seriously. "It wasn't far away,"

"I still don't think we should have left him?" Sansa said tremulously. "What if - "

"Oh who cares?" Morganna snapped irritably. "You can't still be mooning after him after this?" She jabbed a finger at her own bruised face. "You're meant to marry him. What if you're next?" Sansa opened her mouth to argue back - Tommen was conspicuously silent - but Ren cut them off.

"Someone will find him if he can't get back on his own," He didn't care much either way, trying to ignore the part of him that wanted nothing more than to go out with Crow and find the prince himself. That would end well for no one. As though sensing his mood, the wolf growled. "And when he does, it won't be pretty," All of them went a little more pale at that. Ren sighed. "Come on, we'll go and find your father," He glanced at Tommen. "Go to your uncle. There'll be trouble if you don't go to your family straight away, and I can't imagine you fancy explaining to your mother what happened," Tommen went even paler, but did as he said.

Lord Stark heard the jumbled version of events with a cold, stony expression that barely moved a muscle. From what Ren could gather, Arya and her friend the butcher's boy had been playing by the river, at swords of all things, using sticks. Joffrey, who had been walking with Sansa, found them, and starting picking on the butcher's boy like he did with anyone he deemed below him. Arya had been angry, and nearly attacked him, but then Morganna - who had somehow ended up spending the afternoon with Tommen, he hadn't quite caught why - arrived. His sister had laughed at the prince - gods only know what she said - and he had lashed out with his sword in anger. Whichever idiot gave the boy live steel deserves to be flogged.

Thankfully, Joffrey had only caught her with the hilt still held in his fist, and she fell to the floor, as the prince laughed. That was when Tommen had lost it. Ren blinked in surprise as Morganna recounted how the normally, placid, friendly prince had leapt at his older brother, seeming to follow Edrick's example from a few weeks ago and pushing him over. He's finally managed to grow a backbone... only took us five years. However Tommen, unlike Ren's brother, hadn't quite known what to do then, allowing Joffrey to start flailing around with his sword again. Arya had stamped on his arm to make him let go, the butcher boy had run away, and Morganna had thrown his sword in the river. Ren had smirked at that. His uncle did not.

Before he could do anything more than ask if they all agreed with what had happened, they were interrupted by the arrival of a messenger, carrying a sharply-worded summons to Lord Darry's audience chamber. It was a royal seal, but it blatantly came from the queen, not the king.


The chamber was far too crowded for such a small matter. As darkness fell, the news spread that something was happening and more people flocked to the hall.

"Remember what I said," Ren hissed in his sister's ear, and she nodded, giving him a small grin. On the way there, he had told her to play the innocent victim. If she started making snide comments and jokes, she would turn people against her. "And don't look like you're enjoying it so much," Her grin fell in an instant and he patted her on the shoulder before taking his place in the crowd.

All the children involved in the incident were stood before the king, who was slumped in Darry's high seat looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. The queen and Joffrey were stood to his left, both their faces twisted in anger as they glared at the children stood before them; Sansa, Arya, and Morganna. Sansa looked anxious, and Arya looked furious, but wide eyed and scared. Morganna, for all her faults, was a good actress, and wore a convincing expression of anxiousness mixed with polite regret. Tommen wasn't there at all, which was not promising, and he didn't see Jaime anywhere.

"What's all this about?" Loreon moved up to stand beside him.

"See my sister's black eye?" There was no humour in the look Ren gave his friend. "Your brother did that," Loreon hissed between his teeth.

"I'll give him two for himself when I next catch him alone,"

"Good luck," Ren snorted flatly. "His mother won't let him out of the Hound's sight after this," He paused. "Anyway, I think my uncle will beat you to it,"

Lord Stark was furious, that was plain to see.

"What is the meaning of this, Robert?" He coldly demanded, gesturing around the crowded chamber. "Is the matter to be made into a public spectacle?" He spoke to the king, but it was Cersei who answered.

"How dare you speak to your king in that manner!" She sounded outraged, trying to undermine his uncle, but she had misjudged the situation. There was no chance of Robert siding with the wife he despised over the man he had considered a brother for decades.

"Quiet, woman," Sure enough, Robert snapped at her impatiently. "I am sorry, Ned. I never meant to frighten the children. It seemed best to bring everyone here and get the business done with quickly,"

"Well then let's get it done with,"

"My son was attacked, Stark," Was he. Cersei stared him down, or tried to. His uncle held her stare, one of the few who could. "Again," Surely that said more about Joffrey than anyone else. "By your feral daughter and - "

"That's not true," Arya said loudly. "We just took his sword. He was hurting Mycah and hit - "

"I do hope the prince is alright," Morganna cut her off, with an admirable look of concern. "He had quite the fall earlier," Sly little thing, that one, wanting the reveal for herself. It would be a reveal, for Joffrey surely wouldn't have told anyone.

"Joff told us what happened," Cersei said imperiously. "You and the butcher boy beat him with clubs and threatened him with wolves," She looked that Arya then Morganna. "Then the Bolton girl stole his sword," Interesting, she hadn't mentioned Tommen. Perhaps she was deliberately leaving it out, not wanting to land her other son in trouble, but that seemed unlikely given that Joffrey was her favourite. At the very least, she should be accusing the girls of corrupting her younger son against his brother.

"That's not how it was," Arya sounded half angry and half terrified. His uncle put a hand on his younger daughter's shoulder. Ren watched silently, glancing between the king, the queen, Joffrey and his cousins. Morganna was doing much the same, peering around the room.

"Yes it is!" Joffrey insisted. "They attacked me, and she threw Lion's Tooth in the river!" Again, no mention of Tommen. The truth wasn't hard to work out. She doesn't know. It made sense. If Tommen had done as Ren had said and gone straight to Jaime, he wouldn't have had a chance to be interrogated by his mother - under which he would most definitely crack, the boy couldn't lie to save his life and would no doubt be feeling guilty about the whole thing - and Ren couldn't imagine Joffrey falling over himself to let the whole court know his timid younger brother who he so often tormented had knocked him to the ground. Ren smirked, as the prince threw a particularly vicious look at Morganna. Cersei turned her glare on Ren's sister now, but the girl said nothing, just lifted her chin slightly.

"Liar!" Arya had no such inhibitions.

"Arya, stop, you're ruining everything," Sansa protested, but was drowned out by Joffrey yelling at her sister.

"Shut up!"

"A mature, well-thought response from our future king to the nine year old daughter of a great lord," Ren muttered under his breath, and Loreon laughed darkly beside him.

"Enough!" Robert roared, rising from his seat, voice thick with irritation. Silence fell and the king turned to Morganna. "Now, child, as the most sensible one of this wittering lot, you will tell me what happened," Most sensible? Ha. "Tell it all, and tell it true. It is a great crime to lie to a king," Then he looked at Joffrey with barely veiled dislike. "When she is done, you will have your turn. Until then, hold your tongue," Morganna gave a small, gracious smile. Ren knew it promised trouble.

"He did this," She started off well, by pointing to her bruised face, which had purpled even more since they had come out of the woods.

"Who did?" Robert frowned. "The butcher's boy?"

"No," Ren knew his sister relished every word, though she made a good show of being a wide-eyed, innocent girl. "The prince," There was an outburst of gasps and murmurs from the assembled crowd. Joffrey's face flushed a delicate crimson, and the queen said nothing, glancing at her son sharply. Not because he'd hit a girl - to put it bluntly, Cersei wouldn't give two shits - but because he hadn't given her time to prepare his defence for it.

"That's what I was trying to say," Arya said indignantly. "He hurt Morganna! She was only laughing, and he hit her with his sword," Ren doubted very much that Morganna had only been laughing, but rather like Cersei, he didn't care much either. The girl could've been beating an unarmed Joffrey around the head with a mace and he still would've taken her side.

"How do we know that that is the truth?" Cersei dismissed her smoothly. "Children injure themselves often,"

"That," His uncle said darkly. "Was made by a sword hilt,"

"And how are you certain, Lord Stark?" The queen asked her, in that disdainful way she had managed to perfect. "It could be anything,"

"My sister Lady Rosennis had several marks much like that, after near three years at the mercy of Aerys Targaryen," His voice dropped a shade colder. "I know what such a bruise looks like, and I never wanted to see one on her daughter," Silence followed this. The implications of his words were obvious and even as Cersei sneered she glanced warily at Robert, who hadn't seemed to notice the comparison as he glowered at his son.

"You're all saying that Joffrey hit her?" He broke it, addressing the three girls. They all nodded, though Sansa hesitated, head barely dipping once. She couldn't not do it, however, not with the proof in front of her, even if she had wanted to side with her betrothed. Ren hoped this had shaken her a little out of her stupid daydreams for Joffrey. The king looked darkly Joffrey, but motioned to Morganna not unkindly. "Come on girl, tell the story,"

Ren's jaw tightened as it had the first time, as they all listened to Morganna talk. She had been bored, as Princess Myrcella was spending the day with her mother, and had found Tommen on his own too.

"Tommen wasn't there," Cersei interrupted, and Ren bit his lip. Morganna frowned in feigned puzzlement. Robert had raised an eyebrow.

"Yes he was, your Grace,"

"Carry on," The king waved a hand. Joffrey looked strained, perhaps starting to regret the public setting.

Morganna continued. The two of them had wandered off together. Ren read between the lines there, picturing Tommen being dragged along by his sister, who was rather difficult to say no to. They had found Sansa in the woods with Joffrey; Morganna claimed her cousin invited them to join her and the prince, but judging by the brief flicker of surprise on Sansa's face, that was news to her. She likely hadn't done anything of the sort, if anything the opposite, but Morganna had tagged along anyway. She seemed to delight in going out of her way to irritate people she did not like, so Joffrey must have been a challenge she couldn't walk away from.

Soon after, the four of them had come across Arya and the butcher's boy playing with sticks by the river. Joffrey had already been annoyed, by Morganna being there apparently. The girl didn't mention any provocation on her part, of course, though there undoubtedly would have been. She told how it got worse when Joffrey turned on the poor butcher's boy, drawing his sword and threatening him. Morganna had warned Arya off jumping to the boy's defence, telling her to keep her direwolf back or she would attack the prince. Horsehit, Ren thought to himself with some amusement. She had already told them all in front of their uncle that she had laughed, saying mockingly to keep the wolf back or Nymeria wouldn't need to be fed for days.

Whichever tale she told to the king, however, Joffrey had then rounded on her, angry. She had got the better of him with words, and they had all laughed but Sansa, who started to cry. Furious, the prince had lashed out at her with his sword hand, catching her cheek and eye with the hilt and knocking her to the floor. Morganna paused in her story.

"When I fell, Prince Tommen got quite angry at his brother," She eyed the prince with a brief nasty gleam in her eye.

"Stop," Joffrey protested angrily. "You're lying. Mother, she's lying," No one paid him any attention except the queen, who glanced at him sharply.

"He jumped at Prince Joffrey and knocked him over," Morganna said, and several surprised murmurs and a few giggles rippled through the room. Tommen was well-liked throughout the court, being a friendly and sociable boy, but it was Joffrey who was feared, particular by the servants.

Arya had held down - not stamped on, Ren was glad to hear in this version - his wrist and Morganna had grabbed his flailing sword, throwing it in the river. At this, Renly Baratheon laughed so much he had to leave the hall, whilst Robert just looked at a flushed Joffrey in disgust. Cersei opened her mouth to utter more expressions of outrage, but Robert waved her down. Morganna finished with how the butcher's boy had run away, and left out how all four of them had left Joffrey squirming on the floor. She didn't use the word squirming, but the look in her eyes made it very clear that was what she meant.

Joffrey was pale facing his father's accusing stare as he began his very different version of events. He was trying to spend a nice afternoon with his betrothed, only to be harassed by the brazen Morganna Bolton and his annoying younger brother. He had been attacked by the butcher boy and the younger two girls, greatly injuring his wrist. Strange, how he would rather be beaten by two little girls than his brother. When Joffrey was done talking, the king rose heavily from his seat, looking like a man who wanted to be anywhere but here.

"What in all the seven hells am I supposed to make of this? He says one thing, she says another,"

"The Stark children are wild," Cersei was saying. "The Boltons are worse. And their direwolves are savage beasts, that deserve to be put down. You heard it out of the girl's own mouth, if she hadn't stopped it then the creature would have attacked our son. They would be a danger in the capital,"

"Fine," Robert shrugged. "Set the wolves loose, or send them away," Ren's uncle nodded, and the faces of both Arya and Sansa fell in disappointment. Arya tried to protest, but her father waved her down. Ren glared at the queen, not that she would've noticed. He had grown quite used to his rangy black wolf, and had been looking forward to walking around the Red Keep with the beast at his heels.

"Is that all you plan to do?" Cersei exclaimed in outrage. "That Bolton boy attacked my son before, and now this. He is being targeted, unjustly. Joffrey claims the youngest tried to break his wrist! Robert, I want her punished,"

"Seven hells," Robert swore. "Cersei, look at her. She's a child. What would you have me do, whip her through the streets? Damn it, children fight. It's over. No lasting harm was done," Joffrey was thirteen, hardly a child enough to be fighting a nine year old, but the queen was furious as ever nonetheless.

"Joff will live in fear whilst these savages are around him,"

"Just as the little girl he struck will fear him," Robert said coldly, though the brief scornful look in Morganna's eye said otherwise. "Maybe it'll teach him some humility. Ned, see that your daughter is disciplined. I will do the same with my son,"

"Gladly, your Grace," Stark was lucky to have gotten off so lightly, considering how warped the tales that had been told were, but frowned that Joffrey had too. Robert started to walk away, but the prince was not done.

"What about her?" He called after him, desperate to see someone, anyone punished. "The other girl, who dared lay a hand on the heir to the throne," This is ridiculous. The king stopped, turned back and frowned, but Ren had already stepped forward.

"My sister did nothing wrong," Perhaps it wasn't the best idea, but what were they going to do? Kill him? If anything, his uncle and mother had the king's favour. That counted for something, at least. Cersei straightened at the sharp tone directed at her son, disdainful eyes flickering to him. She knew him as Jaime's squire, but they had never spoken. He knew her better, by listening and seeing.

"And how did you possibly come to that conclusion, boy?" She said, and Ren met her eyes with a steely look.

"Go on, bastard," Joffrey was vindictive, vicious. "Explain how she almost crippled my wrist and threw my sword in the river," Ren didn't rise to the bait, pointedly turning to the queen over Joffrey.

"Your son hit my sister, your Grace," He said flatly. His northern accent - strong even after all his time in King's Landing - seemed even stronger against the queen's polished southron tones. Everyone was staring at him. "She's eleven, and half his size. I don't think throwing a sword in a river was the worst thing done today," There was a heavy pause, where Joffrey reddened in anger, and Cersei stared down at Ren, trying to work out his intentions.

"Quite right. Enough of this," The king rumbled wearily before she could reply. Ren counted that as a victory. "Cersei, hold your tongue. Ned, punish the girl if you want, I couldn't give two shits. Although I'd get her a poultice first. Ha, I should have Joffrey do it. Teach him some respect," Chuckling darkly, the king left the room.


The slim figure moved almost silently through the tent flaps, silhouette dark against the nightfires and torches of the camp outside.

"They killed him," Lizzie whispered in Ren's ear as she slipped beneath his blankets. "Lady Arya's friend,"

"The butcher's boy?" Ren frowned, moving an arm around her. In truth, he had thought little of the boy. He hadn't really done anything wrong, just been there to witness Joffrey's humiliation without a highborn name to protect him. "Who did it?"

"The big one, with the burnt face," Her eyes were narrowed. "The Hound. Rode into the courtyard bold as brass, the boy's body on the back of his horse. I saw him after they got him down. Looked near cut in half, poor lad,"

"He rode him down," Ren said. The boy must've been terrified, on foot and defenceless as an armoured knight galloped behind him, a greatsword swinging, splitting him from shoulder to hip. But Ren would rather that boy died than his sister or cousins suffer. Hells, he would rather that boy died than the direwolves got sent away in truth, but as it was, both had happened. Arya wouldn't be happy.

He looked at Lizzie. In the darkness, lying beside him, her eyes were huge, barely able to be made out in the gloom. Ren's hand slowly slid behind her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he brought her lips to his. He didn't want to dwell on the butcher's boy any longer, and Lizzie squirming and gasping underneath him as he moved on top of her was a rather pleasant distraction.