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XI
Crossroads
Somewhere around the Neck, Joanna remembered that it was a long way from Winterfell to King's Landing, and she began to miss the wheelhouse. More specifically, perhaps, she began to miss the cushioned seats. Perhaps one day her arse would feel something other than numb or sore, though she couldn't imagine it would be soon. They were still a week at least from King's Landing. Despite this, she tried her best to grin through the pain and enjoy her trip. Gods knew, it was likely to be her last one.
While part of her was excited to get back to King's Landing, to see her siblings, to see her friends, there was a small part of her that was sad to leave the North. The North was so far removed from King's Landing, so distant and so different, that it was almost like stepping into another world for a short time. As much as Joanna had loved gossip and court chatter, it was nice for a short while to live in a world where there was no court; there were no courtiers to impress, no worry of putting a toe out of line in front of her mother. It was a simpler, and much happier life, for however short a time.
But of course, she couldn't truly be sad to return to King's Landing. Not when it meant seeing Desmera again, or Myrcella and Tommen. She couldn't wait to see the looks on her younger siblings' faces when she told them about the Wall. If she were lucky, she could avoid Joffrey's hounding about it. Cersei could hardly be avoided, but Joanna hoped that by the time of her return, her mother would have had enough time that most of her anger would have worn off. It was perhaps too much to hope for, but Joanna hoped for it nonetheless.
Yoren and Tyrion burst out laughing at something; the sound of their laughter drew Joanna out of her thoughts. Ser Arys curled his lip in disgust, scoffing. He shook his head.
"Are you sure you're not offended by their vulgarity, Princess?" he asked.
"I didn't hear them," she responded, shrugging. "I wasn't listening."
"They shouldn't use such language around you."
"I don't mind is, Arys," she said. "I promise. I don't pay them any attention half the time, anyways."
"Lord Tyrion is a man of ill character," he said, still frowning over at the two men. "I mislike the way he speaks around you and your sister."
"Myrcella likes it," she replied. The thought made her smile. "It makes her feel grown-up to hear adults use foul language."
Ser Arys sighed. "With respect, my princess, I don't know what your father was thinking allowing you to go to the Wall with your uncle. It's no place for a respectable young lady like yourself."
At that, Joanna's smile turned sour.
"Yes, well, you needn't worry of it much longer. Once we return to King's Landing, I doubt my mother will let me see the light of day for months."
"Your mother means well, my lady," he said. Joanna only barely refrained from snorting at that. She liked Ser Arys. He was often the member of the Kingsguard tasked with protecting her and her siblings, perhaps because of his younger age or his kind disposition. So Joanna thought it ironic that he seemed to believe that her mother ever did anything to her because she meant well. Still, she bit her tongue.
"I suppose you may be right," she said, voice somewhat stiff.
Joanna was much more transparent than she thought she was. Ser Arys was sure that she thought she was hiding her disdain for her mother very well. All teenaged girls seemed to be the same in that regard; every girl reached a certain age in their youth, it seemed, when they suddenly grow to be enemies with their mother. He was sure that Myrcella would be the same when she came to be Joanna's age. And, after all, Joanna did have a tendency to be dramatic.
Though sometimes, Arys could see that Joanna had a point. It was clear that Cersei loved her children in the way that she doted on them and protected them. Arys knew that it killed her to have Joanna be so far away. But he wasn't blind. Cersei was always so accommodating of her other children, so willing to overlook their flaws and make excuses for unseemly behavior. To Joanna, however, Cersei always seemed to have a much more critical eye.
For much of her life, Arys remembered, Joanna had fervently sought her mother's approval in everything she did, and relished in the reward of her mother's affection. It was only in the recent years that it seemed that Joanna began to despise the constant chase for her mother's attentions, began to tire of trying her hardest only to suffer her mother's ire over something small. She acted out more, was looser with her tongue – though, Arys noted, she still dedicated much of her time to making sure that Cersei would approve of her actions and appearance. Perhaps old habits were hard to break.
He hoped that the trip to the Wall would be the remedy that Joanna needed. She was restless, like her father. Too much time spent cooped up in the keep made her temperamental. Perhaps upon their return to King's Landing, he would see the affable young girl she was in her youth return – he had caught a glimpse of her in their visit to Winterfell, and that had given him hope. If there was one thing he hated, it was being posted outside the King's doors and having to overhear the shouting match between he and the Queen whenever she and Joanna incited each other's ire.
She did, indeed, look happier now. Even tired and uncomfortable as she was, she tended to have the ghost of a smile lingering upon her face. He only hoped it would last until they returned to King's Landing.
It was a relief to finally reach the Inn at the Crossroads. Joanna wanted nothing more in the world than a hay-filled bed, never mind the feather bed that was awaiting her at home. Her back ached with stiffness just thinking about it. So many nights sleeping on a bedroll inside a tent had been spent dreaming of the day she could have a warm meal, a warm bed, and a roof over her head once more. The Inn at the Crossroads could barely hold a candle to the Red Keep, but Joanna didn't mind.
As such, it was disheartening to be hardly two steps inside the inn before being told that there were no free rooms.
"My men can sleep in the stables," Tyrion replied. "My niece and I don't require large rooms."
"Princess Joanna, please, I would be honored if you took my room," the innkeeper said. "But my customers have paid for their beds. That is the only room I can give."
Joanna looked over at Tyrion for guidance, unsure about pushing a woman out of her own room, but he was already drawing a gold dragon from the coin purse at his side. He held it between his fingers for the patrons to see.
"Is there nothing I can do to remedy this?" he asked, and tapped the coin twice on a table for emphasis. A man sitting nearby spoke up.
"You can have my room," he said.
"Now there's a clever man!" said Tyrion, tossing the coin to him. He turned to the innkeeper, who appeared a bit baffled at the transaction that had taken place. "You can manage food, I trust? Yoren, dine with us."
Desperate for food, Joanna was eager to sit and be fed a meal. Before she could even take a step, however, another interruption befell them.
"Princess Joanna," said a loud voice. A bard, lute in hand, stood. "My Lord of Lannister. Might I entertain you while you eat? I can sing your father's victory at King's Landing."
"Nothing would more likely ruin my supper." He turned his head, intending to look away from the bard, and caught something very interesting in his sights. His eyes widened in surprise. "Lady Stark!"
Joanna stepped forward, confused and surprised. She had been told that Lady Stark was in Winterfell, unwell. And yet, here she was, leagues away. Tyrion continued before she could say anything.
"What an unexpected pleasure! I was sorry to have missed you at Winterfell."
The other patrons murmured in surprise – clearly, they were all unaware that Lady Stark was among them. Curious, Joanna found, that she would be so quiet about her presence, and that her son would be so secretive about her whereabouts. Lady Stark did not look half as pleased to see Tyrion as he seemed to be to see her. She had a stony look on her face as she rose from her seat and lowered the scarf from over her head. She looked around the inn at the other patrons. Every eye was on her. The soft murmurs quieted.
"I was still Catelyn Tully the last time I stayed here," she said. Then, she pointed to a man sat across the room and stepped forward. The master-at-arms of Winterfell, who was sat across from her, rose as well. "You, ser. Is that the black bat of Harrenhal I see embroidered on your coat?"
The man in question stood and nodded. "It is, my lady."
"And is Lady Whent a true and honest friend to my father, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun?"
"She is."
Lady Stark looked around the room once more. Joanna couldn't help but notice that Rodrik Cassel had his hand clasped around the hilt of his sword. She looked behind her, making sure that Ser Arys was close at her back. Whatever Lady Stark was getting at, she was sure it wasn't a kindly gesture. Catelyn pointed out another man in the crowd.
"The red stallion was always a welcome sight at Riverrun. My father counts Jonos Bracken amongst his oldest and most loyal bannermen."
"My lord is honored by his trust," the knight said.
Tyrion shook his head. "I envy your father all his fine friends, Lady Stark," he said, "but, I don't quite see the purpose of this."
In lieu of an answer, Catelyn turned to address a knight sitting behind her.
"I know your sigil as well – the twin towers of Frey," she said. "How fares your lord, ser?"
"Lord Walder is well, my lady," the knight answered. "He has asked your father for the honor of his presence on his ninetieth nameday; he plans to take another wife."
Tyrion scoffed at that, though at her scornful glance, Lady Stark didn't seem to take kindly to his levity. She turned around to face him, pointing an accusatory finger.
"This man came into my house as a guest, and there conspired to murder my son, a boy of ten. In the name of King Robert and the good lords you serve, I call upon you to seize him and help me to return him to Winterfell, to await the King's justice."
She hardly had to finish speaking before each of the knights she had called upon drew their swords as one, closing in on Tyrion so he had no room to move. Ser Arys took a step towards Joanna, but she stepped towards Tyrion, fists balled in anger. What gall Lady Stark had! She took a deep breath to try and keep her voice level.
"Good sers, I bid you lower your swords," she said, hardly restrained. She glowered at Catelyn with all the anger she could muster, channeling the fury away from her voice and to her gaze instead. She tried to emulate her father when he was angry, the low, strong voice he used that made his subjects tremble in their boots. One or two of the knights lowered their swords immediately, though others hesitated. In a steady voice Joanna continued, "Lady Stark, this is folly. Our families may not always see eye-to-eye, but I promise you, my uncle bears no ill will towards your son."
"We are in the possession of the dagger he owned, the dagger that was meant for my son's throat," she hissed.
"And you're so sure that this dagger was his?" Lady Stark seemed to want to speak, but she withheld her words. Joanna took this chance to continue. "Come with us to King's Landing if you must. There, my uncle can receive a trial, and the King's justice can be dispensed immediately, if necessary."
Catelyn didn't seem wholly placated, but she didn't protest. She turned to Rodrik, sharing a long look with him, before turning back to Joanna to meet her gaze.
"I will not have him travel as a free man," she said. "He will return to King's Landing in irons."
"So be it," Joanna replied. Tyrion turned to give her a look, but she ignored it. "Ser Arys, tonight you will keep watch over my uncle's room and ensure that he does not leave. We will all ride for King's Landing in the morning."
"Yes, my lady," Arys responded.
She accompanied Arys as he escorted Tyrion to the room that would act as his prison cell for the night. To say that Tyrion was upset was an understatement.
"In irons?" he demanded, once they were far enough away from keen ears.
"What was I supposed to do?" she asked. "She told the entire inn that you conspired to murder a little boy! Truly, uncle, I'm asking you – what should I have done?"
"What does it matter now?" he asked. "I'm already a prisoner."
"When we're home in King's Landing, mother or father will think of something to free you," she said. "I'm sure of it."
"Ride ahead to King's Landing," he told her. She furrowed her brow, incredulous.
"What?"
"You and Ser Arys will travel much quicker than the entire group will. Warn your mother of what's happened."
"And leave you at the mercy of Lady Stark?"
Tyrion's expression darkened, if only slightly. "Lady Stark will keep me alive if she knows what's good for her."
Joanna frowned, but she didn't have a reply. She was keen for her uncle's advice, and if this was it, then so be it.
"I don't like it," she said. Tyrion snorted.
"Nor do I!" he replied. "But you must be quick. Go," he urged, "I'll be alright."
Hesitant, Joanna leaned down to press a kiss to her uncle's cheek. She squeezed his hands tightly, loathe to release him. Nevertheless, she and Ser Arys went downstairs to meet Catelyn and her man-at-arms. Joanna wore the stoniest look she could muster.
"My man and I will travel ahead of you to the capitol," she told them. "My uncle is in your custody. We will be expecting you in King's Landing shortly, Lady Stark."
Lady Stark was not cowed, but Joanna didn't back down.
"Your uncle will receive the King's justice," she said.
"Then you shall see him to it unharmed."
She and Arys swept out of the inn, Yoren in tow, and left that evening to ride for King's Landing with all haste.
A/N: I'm back again! This chapter took about as long as anticipated. I decided that I didn't want to fill the story with extraneous fluff just to space out events, so I just went for it. Hopefully the pacing of the story isn't messed up or anything. Let me know what you think.
Huge thanks to HPuni101, RHatch89, BrittStarr1199 (me too, girl), darkwolf76, and Lt-Spork89 for the reviews! Every time motivation gets low, reviews are the main thing that keeps me going. Seeing people review really means a lot. Additionally, I'd like to thank everyone who's added this story to their follows and faves. I see all of you, and it's really appreciated.
This chapter, we've got a bit of insight, exploring things from the perspective of a character that I wasn't initially intending. And the ball is rolling now! Catelyn has made her move! We'll have King's Landing next chapter, which I'm reeeeally looking forward to - I hope you are, too! ~romance~ is gonna be on the back-burner for a bit, but I'm super excited for you all to see what's coming next.
Hopefully characterization and pacing are still good in this chapter. As always, I welcome constructive criticism with open arms. Although this is just a fun thing for me to do in my free time, I still look for ways to improve.
I'm super psyched for these next few chapters, so hopefully I can get the next one out to you soon. School has started, though, and when I'm busy with school, time always passes much quicker than it seems. I don't intend to go on another 8-month hiatus, though, so hopefully I'll be back soon!
Much love to you all. Let me know how you're liking season 7!
Until next time!
Rex