The door creaked as she opened it. Slowly and calmly she approached her mother, who sat next to her brothers bed. Catelyn looked weary and exhausted, as well as pale. Iona was starting to see her mother's cheekbones that had become more prominent. Looking after Bran gave her no time to eat.
Catelyn had refused to leave his side since the incident, and it was clear to see.
Her mother did not even look up at the sound of her footsteps. Lightly, she placed her arms around her mother, in an embrace.
"I know you have heard it many times, but I promise you, Bran will make it through. He is a strong boy. He is your son."
"Can you be certain that he slipped?"
"How could you ask such a thing? Of course he did. I would never lie to you, Mother."


Mounting her horse, she was promptly approached by Prince Joffrey.
"Will you be riding beside me, my lady?"
"If it is your wish, my Prince."

As she rode away, she looked over her shoulder, and waved at her family. As expected, her mother was absent, still at Bran's bedside. Robb looked tearful, and Rickon was sobbing in his arms.
Sansa, Arya and Jon travelled with her, though Jon would soon be departing for the Wall.
Iona was heading South, to Kings Landing. It was one step closer to becoming Queen. One day, she would be. She just hoped it would be someday soon.

Riding along side Joffrey, she plotted ways to manipulate him.
He was cruel, and sadistic like her, but if she was not careful - he would make people hate him, and then when he was King, he probably wouldn't last. Too many people would try to destroy him.
She had to make him like her - to the many, she was delightful, lovable and kind, though truly she was hideous.
That was Iona's mission - for the time leading up to their marriage: to make the people love him... to make the people love her.

Joffrey talked idly at her, and she listened whole-heartedly, to please him.
She made a side note that she also needed to improve her relationship with the current Queen, as well as the rest of them.
Myrcella and Tommen, as well as Tyrion and Jaime. Tyrion was heading to the Wall for a time, but when he returned, she would dive straight in.
She needed to make Myrcella and Tommen love her - that would definitely give her an advantage against the Queen. She needed them to sing her praises.

Ever since Iona had revealed her true self to the Prince, he seemed to want to spend every moment he could with her.
Iona had made the most of it. She teased the Prince with fleeting, heated glances, and light touches. She still had not allowed him the pleasure of kissing her - that would be saved for a special moment. Iona knew all too well that it would just make him want her more.

She couldn't help but wonder if and when she would ever see her brother again. Her mother was not important - Iona had never been the favoured child - no, that was Sansa; 'the perfect lady'.
Iona hated the world she lived in. All that matter of women was their wealth and ability to bear children - it was pathetic. Men were able to do much more exciting things, and it angered her.
When she was Queen, that would be the first challenge she would tackle.

After the incident involving her brother, she had only spoken with the Queen twice. By the second time, she was at least convinced that the Queen believed in her loyalty.
Iona knew that the Queen would not fall for incessant compliments as most did - she was too smart for that. She would build a relationship with the Queen by common interests. She was insulted that the Queen was still not fond of her, considering she had lied about the near-death of her brother on her behalf.

In light of recent events, that was the least of her worries. Her youngest sister had found a friend in the butcher's boy. They fought playfully almost everyday. Much to her annoyance and her sister's misfortune, one day she, along with her future husband happened upon them during a stroll. This would not end well and she knew it, but she let it happen because she needed to see how the Prince would react to such things so that she would know how to handle them. Iona could already predict it; he would try to impress her by being torturous like herself - but in front of those who did not know what she was truly like, he would just look horrendously cruel and unjust. Still, it happened.

In front of them, by the waters edge, Arya and the butcher's boy fought with sticks. Iona did note that her sister was fighting rather impressively.
"What is this?" The Prince asked, his voice dripping with distaste.
"Nothing, my lord. She asked my to fight with her." The boy was quick to answer.
"It's 'My Prince', actually. You're fighting with a stick - and a lady. That is not a good thing to do."
"Leave him alone!" Arya yelled.
Joffrey threw a glare at Iona's sister, but she did not back down from it.

Iona approached her sister as Joffrey drew his sword.
"Arya, go. I will sort this out."
Arya was reluctant, but when Iona glared at her and clenched her jaw she left, with her wolf in tow.

"Joffrey. No." Iona said loudly, gently. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "Boy, wait there. We will talk in a moment."
Aside, several strides from the boy who was cowering, eyes wide, she murmured to Joffrey "Go fetch the Hound."
With one movement of his hand, the Hound emerged from the woods - where he had been keeping a close eye on the situation.
"Pretend to fight him and let him hit you. Order his death for attacking his Prince."
Joffrey looked uncertain and even offended by the remark. Gently, she caressed his cheek and his face softened. "Trust me."

Iona slipped into Arya's room as soon as she had the chance. Arya was curled up on the bed - grumbling to herself.
When she saw her older sister, she shot up and flung herself at her. "HOW COULD YOU? YOU LET HIM KILL HIM. I HATE YOU!"
Iona did not fight her sister, but pulled her against her in a hug. "I tried, I am so deeply sorry."
Her sister finally let go of all of the pent up anger and emotion; and cried into Iona's dress.
Iona stroked her sisters hair comfortingly. "There was nothing I could do. Do not blame the Prince. They dueled, and Joffrey was losing. The Hound walked up, and misunderstood the situation. He was only doing his job."
"Well, I hate them! I'll destroy them all."