Andrew
Joy was dressed in a forest green gown and had a heavy cloak around her shoulders. Looking at her he could say that she was going out.
"Where are you going?" Andrew asked as she went to fix a brooch to pin her cloak.
"Outside," Joy said. "I need to go get some things."
Andrew sat up on the bed. "Give me some time," he told her. "I'll come with you."
He had stayed in the bed for too long. Staying here won't do any good for him. He needed to go out and see the world with his own eyes. He needed to walk, needed to find another way to get his justice. The pain was still there in his injured leg but Andrew thought he could manage to walk.
"Help me up," he said, struggling with the bedclothes. "It's time I saw the outside world, and past time I let myself be seen again." He thought about Illola and the girls, they would be worried for me right now, especially Illola. Illola had known where he had left that day when the king of Westeros came to Braavos. With all the talks surrounding him and that day she would be worried sick for him.
Joy rushed to him at once but not to help him. "No," she said at once, easing him back to lie on the bed. "Just because you could walk you can't come that long way with me."
She was sweet but can be stubborn when she wanted. He has never known someone so stubborn as her. There were times where he wondered whether someone could be more stubborn than her. "But I can't just sit here on this bed for all day. I need some fresh air."
"No," She said again. "You can't walk the distance. You'll not make it."
"I won't know that until I try." Andrew could see that she was still not convinced.
"It is so dangerous. They are still searching for you."
"They can go to hell," Andrew said. "I can't just stay here on this bed everyday. I need to know that I can still use my legs. I need to walk." In truth he needed more than that. He needed a plan and another chance to kill Rhaegar. He could learn something about him from the mouth of a passing sailer or a drunken sellsword. But saying that to Joy will make sure that he never stepped away from the bed.
His words made Joy to think about it if not his thoughts. Joy was a healer and she knew that he would want to walk sooner rather than later. He was glad that he told her about it.
"Alright," she gave in at last. "But when we're outside you do as I ask you to do. You follow me."
Andrew chuckled. "As you say, my lady." He got that pretty glare he always got when he called her that. He slid from the bed to the floor. His legs felt strong beneath him, though not as strong as they had been once. He would get his strength back though, Joy said that much. He was healing faster and his health improved quickly. Once he was back to normal he would go for Rhaegar again. He had missed Rhaegar once, missed but not lost. Joy grasped his arm to help him find his footing. She left him once when he had no troubles standing without the support.
She came back with his clothes, a bundle of white and brown.
"Here," she said as she gave the clothes to him. "I've washed and mend your clothes. I have no clothes for men other than my father's but rich clothes will attract too many eyes."
She had done a good job at washing and mending his clothes. His white shirt and jacket had been covered in blood that day. Though most of the blood would have been washed away when he had jumped into the canal. It would've been still a hard thing to return the garments to its original color but Joy had somehow managed to get it back. She was pretty good at sewing too. He could see that by how fine she had managed to stitch to make the cloth back to its shape.
It took both of them to clothe him. Joy was careful with his wounds as she had no mind to make it worse. It was the arrows which had made the worst of the wounds. The swords never managed to get him other than the golden sword of Joy's cousin. Even it was a small cut near his eyebrow and the others were all scrapes which will not even leave a scar.
Joy brought a cloak to him as he was lacing his boots. "Wear this," she said handing it to him. "It was my father's. It would serve to keep your face hidden."
The cloak was a hooded one, roughspun with lambswool and so dark that it would not be visible in the night. Only when she was okay with his look did she finally brought him out.
Outside the day was pleasantly warm for Braavos. Andrew took off his cloak. He was getting outside for the first time in what felt like years and he wanted to feel the cool air against his face, the warmth of the sun on his skin.
Joy immediately found it as complaint.
"A hooded man on a pleasant day will attract unwanted attention as well," Andrew tried to reason and his reasoning worked. She agreed to it on a condition that he cloak himself if they were to come upon any guards.
They walked through the street away from the sinking point of land where the tops of half-drowned buildings thrust themselves above the water. There were so many big buildings all together in one place. He had seen a good number of great castles in Westeros, Winterfell was definitely large, Storm's End larger and Starfall was the tallest castle he had ever seen. All of them had been at different places. Winterfell in the North, Storm's End in the Stormlands and Starfall in Dorne, but Braavos seemed to boast a score of temples and towers and palaces that were as large if not larger all in the same place.
When they reached the main canal, they took the way from the north of the docks and down the stone pathway along a great canal, a broad green waterway that ran straight into the heart of the city through which Andrew had escaped from death. The mouths of lesser canals opened to either side, and others still smaller off of those. A fancy floating house with lanterns of colored glass, covered with velvet drapes was making its way along the main canal. A brazen figurehead in the likeness of a snake was placed on one end.
They cut through a massive grey stone roadway supported by three tiers of mighty arches marching away south into the haze. The sweetwater river ran quietly, bringing fresh water from the mainland, across the mudflats and the briny shallows. Good sweet water for the fountains. He could see The Isle of the Gods from here. Six bridges down, on the right bank the Temple of the Moonsingers stood, a mighty mass of snow-white marble topped by a huge silvered dome whose milk glass windows showed all the phases of the moon. A pair of marble maidens flanked its gates, supporting a crescent-shaped lintel.
Beyond it stood the temple of the Lord of Light, a red stone edifice as stern as any fortress. Atop its great square tower a fire blazed in an iron brazier twenty feet across, whilst smaller fires flanked its brazen doors. The red priests loved their fires. One could always see fires in the temple of R'hllor.
The Holy Refuge came next, a huge brick structure festooned with lichen. More shrines loomed up to either side of the canal.
The road by the Long Canal took them beneath the green copper domes of the Palace of Truth and the tall square towers of the Prestayns and Antaryons and passed through the immense grey arches of the sweetwater river to the district known as Silty Town, where the buildings were smaller and less grand. The canal was choked with serpent boats and barges, but the road was almost free for them.
Joy took him first to the market in the Purple Harbor, it was swarming with sailors and shopkeepers and innkeppers and drunkards. Herring sellers and cod wives, oystermen, clam diggers, stewards, cooks, smallwives, and sailors off the galleys, all haggling loudly with one another as they inspected the things they wanted, some inspected fish, some flour, others bread and wine and some were interested in the courtesans. There were a couple of guards from the city watch, standing near a whorehouse with a cup of wine in one hand and a woman on the other. They were so occupied with their wine and women that they never even spared a look at him.
The harbor was always a busy place. He saw sailors on the prowl for whores, and whores on the prowl for sailors. A pair of bravos passed in rumpled finery, leaning on each other as they staggered drunkenly past the docks, their blades rattling at their sides. A red priest swept past, his scarlet and crimson robes snapping in the wind.
Joy went on about to buy all the things she needed and Andrew followed her closely. As she moved from one shop to another she always went on to give some coins to the beggars nearby. Once she bought some sweets and gave it to the children running around. Looking at her with the children around her, Andrew remembered the day he visited the smallfolk in the north near to Winterfell with his mother. He had been a little child himself, about five years old, younger than all the children around Joy. That was the first time he had ridden out with his mother to meet the people of the north. The people had looked at them and received them happily. Everyone had smiles for them and they were so happy to see his mother. They even knew her name. "Queen Ashara" they had called her as she passed by.
They visited all the people. His mother bought apples and cakes for the children. They had surrounded her like the children who were surrounding Joy now and all of them had been so happy and had big smiles in their faces. They had dined in an inn there, where a woman with rose colored hair had given him strawberries. The memory put a smile on his face. He never knew how he remembered all of them but looking at Joy smiling with the children, he could almost see his mother smiling with the children in Winter Town.
Joy then went to a baker and got some freshly baked bread and a bag of raw flour. It was well past midday when she bought all the things. They munched on bread on their way back home. Andrew insisted they take the long route because it felt good to walk after the long bedrest. Joy obliged without any complaint and they took the long route back home. He had a mind to go see Illola and the girls but he was already tired.
The sun was already down when they reached Joy's building. The mists of evening had begun to rise, sending grey fingers up the walls of the buildings that lined the old canal. He could see three men leaning against the door of Joy's room. Two of them had lanterns with them. The fire made their faces visible amidst the fogs. Joy stopped at once when she saw them.
"Do you know them?" Andrew asked.
Joy nodded slowly. He could see that something was wrong. Andrew followed her up the steps. The one who had no lantern came up to block the way when Joy stepped up to the door.
"I came to see you," he said. He was tall and thin, dressed in rich clothes of a heavy cloak of plush brown velvet trimmed with fur and a brown leather belt ornamented with silver moons and stars.
"I never asked you to come," Joy walked past him and opened the door to enter the room. The three men followed her inside and Andrew got in after them.
"You wound me, sweet lady," the thin man said. "Just the sight of you makes my cock so hard that it aches for you."
When he saw Andrew he turned to him. "Who are you?" He turned to Joy then. "Is he your lover now? Have you fallen for that pretty face?" His companions laughed at that. "I bet he is nothing compared to me down there. And you're always welcome to see it."
With that he grabbed Joy and pressed her against the wall. She struggled in his grasp trying to get away from him but the man had his strength over her. Andrew moved forward and turned the man to him.
"Let her go, mate," he told the man. "She doesn't want you here."
"Leave us alone, whoreson. You can have her when I'm finished with her."
He made to turn to Joy but Andrew caught him by the shoulder and turned the man to him. He punched him right on the nose. A sickening crunch was heard as his closed fist connected with the man's nose. His two companions came for him. The one on his left swung the lantern at him. Andrew ducked under his arm and punched at his ribs and then brought his right hand to punch at his eye. He caught the hand of the third one, a big, bald man and punched his face again and again till he dropped down.
The companions ran away leaving the man alone with him. He covered his broken nose with his left hand and drew a dagger from the belt in his right hand.
"You'll pay for it," he muffled. "My father is Syro Irrirah, he'll make you pay for this."
Syro Irrirah. He has heard the name before. Yes, the old man Gyllaro Dynar and his story. He had seen Viserys that day and had forgotten completely about the old man. Andrew felt ashamed at that, he had made a promise to him and forgot it once he met Viserys.
Syro's son rushed at him and slashed the dagger wildly at him. Andrew caught his hand and punched his broken nose again. He caught him by his velvet robes and pushed the man out of the door. "There is a man named Gyllaro Dynar whom your father once betrayed," Andrew told him. "Ask your father to find him and right all the wrongs your father ever did to him. Do that and don't make me come looking for you. Get out of here." He pushed the man down the steps and closed the door.
Joy was sitting against the wall, looking at him with wide eyes. Andrew walked to her. "Are you alright?"
The girl nodded. There was a bruise on her shoulder.
"You would want to look at that," Andrew pointed to her bruise. He helped her to her bed and brought the paste she asked for from her place. Joy got the paste from him. She tried to apply the cream on her bruise but it was hard for her to reach it.
"Here," Andrew offered. "Let me."
He got the paste from her and dipped a finger into the jar and got some of the cream on the tip of his finger. He applied the paste on the bruise and rubbed it for sometime.
"Why did you punch him?" Joy asked as he applied some more of the paste on her bruise. "You didn't have to do that."
Andrew looked down at her. "He was hurting you. What am I supposed to do? Stand and watch."
Joy was unimpressed. "Why do you always have to punch someone?" she asked him. "Were you always like this? Where is your family?"
My family. "I was not always like this," he admitted after a moment of silence. Andrew felt lightheaded. His wounds throbbed painfully as the old memories came back to him. He eased himself down on the bed and sat beside her. "I had a family once. A small one but a happy one. The happiest one could ever hope to have."
"Where are they?" Her voice sounded far off, faint.
He floated in memory. "Someone ripped it off away from me. My father. My mother. My uncles. All dead in the hands of a madman. A madman who burned my family to ashes, a madman who filled my home with blood, a madman who pushed me to some unknown gutter. We were there for the feast prepared for him. I saw him kill innocent people just because he found it as a rightful act, I saw my father and uncle rushing off to meet death. I heard something that no son should hear about his mother. I saw things that no child should see, heard things that no child should hear."
"Who are you?" Joy asked. "Who did this to you?"
He never knew why he said that but he did. "I'm Andrew Stark, son of King Eddard Stark and Queen Ashara Dayne."
Joy looked at him as if she had seen a ghost. "You're the Born King." Her voice was filled with surprise.
"Don't call me that," he said at once. "It was that name which got my parents killed."
"But how did you. . . Everyone thinks you to be dead."
"My mother saved me," Andrew told her. "She sacrificed herself to save me."
"So that's why you tried to kill Rhaegar Targaryen?"
"He took my family away from me. Him and his family," Andrew mumbled, voice thick with tears. "They enjoyed killing them. They drunk and danced in merry all the while I grew up without my parents. There was no one to hold my hand whilst I walked, no one to hold me tight while I was afraid, no one to comfort me while I cried. For years I cried myself to sleep hoping that everything happened was a bad dream and I'll be with my parents in the morning. None of it happened though and as I grew up I brought myself to live against all that.
"And then I saw Viserys after many years, walking before me as if he had done nothing wrong in this world. But I know what he was truly and I couldn't let him get away. He killed my mother and the gods only know whatever tortured he inflicted upon her. So I started with him. I broke his mouth, his nose his bloody face and hung him from the brothel."
"Andrew," Joy said, "Your mother was not killed by the Targaryens. She threw herself into the sea from atop a cliff."
"No she wouldn't," Andrew said uncertainly. He had never known a woman stronger than his mother. As much as she was kind she was equally strong. She would never bring herself to jump to her death.
The look on Joy's face said otherwise. "I'm sorry, Andrew." Joy placed her hand on his. "She jumped into the sea in grief for your father and your uncle."
"It doesn't matter," Andrew said after a moment of silence. "They killed her anyway. And I'll not stop until I get justice for them. I missed Rhaegar once but I shall not miss him again. I'll kill him and everyone who comes in my way especially the Kingsguard. When I was little I've always looked up to my uncle as if he was some sort of hero. That every Kingsguard is some sort of hero. I loved my uncle's stories about them and I loved them so much that I even wanted to join the order when I had no reason to do so. And that day I saw that they are no better than the madmen they were serving. They stood by and watched their king kill my uncle, their own brother. I'll kill all of them, no matter what."
"Is that what your mother asked you to do?" Joy asked.
A sharp quietness clung to the air. His mother had asked him to remember. And he remembered everything.
"Tell me, Andrew," said Joy. "Will your mother and father want this life for you?"
He knew the answer. It was No. Both of them would never have wanted a life like this for him. But they would still be happy that he is alive.
"You will kill anyone and everyone who comes between you and Rhaegar," Joy said. "Do that and what is the difference between you and the Targaryens? You would kill a man who doesn't even has an idea about you or what happened to you. You would kill a man just because he was in the wrong place in the wrong time? You would kill a man just because he is doing his duty."
She put her arms around him and embraced him tightly. She was warm and soft like his mother had been. "I'm so sorry for what happened to you, Andrew," Joy said. "But this is not life. There is much more to life than all this. You are not alone, you have me. I'm with you."
He never brought himself away from her. Her presence had been a welcoming one. It has been long since Andrew Stark felt something like that but in her arms he felt like he was home.
Author's Notes: So Andrew's confessions and Joy gets to know who he is. Also thanks for all the follows and favorites. You guys are cool. And a shout out to everyone who reviewed, both the users and the Guests thank you, all of you, for your support. Continue your support.