Gara

-ooo-

The constant jostling of the litter threatened to make Gara retch. Breathing out her queasiness, Gara felt a tear on her cheek and quickly wiped it away. Their company, the King's court had been on the move now for three weeks. It was getting hotter, unbearably so. Gara sighed and fanned herself as she sat back and ignored the clammy sweat that had built up on her forehead and tried not to think of how uncomfortable she was trapped in the litter with no one for company and her gown's constant sticking to her. Whence they had crossed the Neck, Sansa had offered Gara to change her gown to something more summery. Gara had seen the sense in this but was at a loath to put the airy, flowing gown on; it was very Southron. She didn't feel like a child of the North in this immodest number, but she relented in the constant barrage of the heat and elected to wear the damn thing.

Every day was more and more trying and Gara felt her heart might burst with every mile that separated her from her homeland and Robb. She was at least not alone in this mode of thinking; Arya did not care much for the expedition either, but the girl did not speak to Gara much while she was in the guise of Gifu. Smiling, giggling, twirling, outgoing Gifu; a girl with an air of promise and the potential for everything. Thegane had rode beside the litter once or twice, he was so very handsome atop his big white destrier, even Gara felt at a loss for breath when he turned one of those green eyes on her, but she always looked away. She thought he noticed her doing this.

She didn't care though, she felt sulky, but knew she had no one to blame for this predicament but herself; I should have just stayed in Winterfell, she lamented to herself. She should have just told Gifu that she was lost and stayed put, but she couldn't abandon Gifu to the gossip-mongers and whispering lords. She had to cleave to her Family, for without them she was nothing. Gara only hoped that Gifu would think of others instead of her selfish self and at least keep a handle on her bawdiness while she pretended to be Gara. The red-headed girl sighed in the heat; she knew Gifu better than that and closed her eyes. After another hour's riding, they finally came to a halt and Gara was helped from the litter by Nevelle Tornthorne.

He was a much tanned man; she thought maybe he hailed from the Free Cities. His beard was dark, threaded with grey – the same went for his shaggy mane of hair that hung to his shoulders. He was gamey, with a thin torso, but Gara sensed a lithe strength in this man. He did not look like a man of privilege, rather a sell-sword, or a man who was destined for the Wall for misdoings. He unnerved Gara; he always watched her through dull grey eyes that missed nothing. He had a scar too, over his left eye that ran down the length of his cheek – a nasty looking one – which he kept partially hidden under the rim of a black cap that he normally wore askew. Gripping his gloved hand, Gara peeped up at him and he nodded curtly,

"Milady,"

He greeted gruffly and let go of her hand when she was on the ground. In a moment of levity, Gara stretched ungracefully and complained of the heat. Tornthorne only nodded and stalked away from her, his black fustian cape swirling as he did. What an oddity of a man, Gara thought. She didn't dwell, they were to stay at an inn tonight – the gentry anyway. The soldiers and men-at-arms would erect tents and sleep in those. Gara exhaled a breath and felt someone thread an arm through hers, when she looked to see who it was; Sansa's smiling face was beaming up at her.

"Joffrey's invited us to walk, want to join us?"

Gara gaped before smiling broadly, fake-like and pretty. "Oh? Of course, I would!" She simpered and Sansa smiled and led her through the bustling and commotion of soldiers all milling around to get their camp ready for habitation. Gara's eyes wandered as she walked with Sansa, she noted that the Stark had adopted a more Southron look already, but she suited it well Gara thought. Sansa was such a pretty thing. The Crowned Prince greeted them both very charmingly; all Gara could do not to balk at his sweet compliments to herself and Sansa. She fell back a step as Joffrey walked beside Sansa and took a drink of wine. Gara didn't mind being shoved to the back while Sansa and the Prince courted, but watched and thought how strange it was to watch another couple court; Joffrey was obviously much younger than Robb, but his...methods were very odd. Although Gara had to cut him some amount of slack, he was a Southerner. She observed coolly dethatched as Joffrey made young Sansa laugh and giggle; she would never feel at home around these people she concluded damply.

"Would you like a drink of wine, Lady Gifu?"

Gara didn't answer; she was still trailing along after Joffrey and Sansa. "Gifu?" Sansa piped and still Gara minced along until she bumped into the Prince's outstretched arm and knocked the wine slightly spilling some. "Oh?!" Gara exclaimed and caught the flask and threw an apologetic look to the Prince,

"Forgive me, Prince Joffrey, my mind was wandering..."

"It is no matter," He shook his head and smiled kindly taking the flask from her, he shook it so the excess wine would fly away and passed her it again. Gara flashed a small smile, "Thank you," She said taking the flask and took a sip of the sweet summer wine. Giving it back, she fell back again as the Prince and Sansa began chattering lightly about the fairness of the weather and the beauty of the grove. Gara sighed malcontent; she was so very bored today.

A noise up ahead made them all look up. Sansa stepped back, and the Prince gently and reassuringly touched her arm and said, "Do not be afraid," He looked back at Gara and nodded, "No harm will come to either of you while I am here." Gara had to stop herself from raising an eyebrow at that, but she kept her opinion to herself and very cleverly bobbed her head like a dullard. Sansa smiled weakly and gripped the flask of wine as the Prince went on ahead. Gara came up alongside Sansa and she felt the girl gently grasp her arm and walk onwards behind Joffrey. What they all saw when they emerged from the lush thicket was Arya and a young boy play-fighting with wooden sticks. Gara smiled, but Sansa scolded,

"Arya!"

The young Stark turned with a furrowed brow and just as she did that the young lad accidently smacked her hand with the flat of his wooden blade. Arya hissed and tossed him an angered look before she stormed round to them, "What are you doing here?!" Gara shrugged as Sansa frowned down on her sister grandly and the Prince swaggered forward,

"Well, well," He began tauntingly and Gara felt her own brow knot at his tone. A moment ago, he had been very charming – in a Lannister sort of way, but still charming nevertheless. "What do we have here?" Asked Joffrey and Sansa sighed annoyed and offered, "He's the butcher's boy,"

"Ah." Said the Prince, drawing his own sword; Gara tensed and felt her eyes go wide. "A butcher's boy who wants to be a knight, eh? How...quaint" The Prince purred condescendingly,

Gara came forward as Joffrey pressed the edge of his blade up against the butcher's boy's cheek,

"What is your name, boy?"

Asked Gara trying to alleviate the tension and the boy swallowed, "Mika, my lady." Gara nodded and glanced over at the Prince who was still standing before the boy threateningly, "Mika? What are you and Arya doing out here?"

"None of your business!"

Shouted Arya rudely and Gara scowled as the Prince said, "So butcher's boy, you want to be a knight? That was my lady's sister you just hurt there did you know that?"

"No, my lord-"

"I am not your lord." Spat Joffrey, "I am your Prince, now raise your sword."

"B-but it's just a wooden sword, my prince." Joffrey's blue eyes narrowed and he hissed, "I know what it's made of you fool, now defend yourself!" Gara gasped as the Prince pressed his sword into Mika's cheek and drew blood, "Don't hurt him!" Arya pleaded angrily and the Prince scoffed,

"I won't hurt him," The boy grimaced as the sword's edge cut him deep, "Not much at any rate." Joffrey grinned callously. Gara had to bite back a yelp of fright as Arya swung her wooden sword at Joffrey's turned back and shouted unintelligibly. The Prince screamed unmanned for a moment as Arya's blow threw him down to one knee. The butcher's boy backed off and ran into the thicket – wooden sword in hand. Gara barely had time to back away too as Joffrey got to his feet and snarled viciously,

"You little bitch!"

Arya stepped back and into Gara, who gripped the girl's shoulders and threw her aside as the Prince swung his sharpened sword wildly at them, aiming for Arya. Gara screamed as the sword's blade nipped her flesh. She fell back and on to one knee, gripping her wounded flesh while Sansa screamed too and ran towards her, her breath was ragged as she beheld the crimson that was flowing from Gara's arm

"I'll kill you, you little cunt!"

The Prince howled chasing after Arya and raining down blows that missed the small girl. Sansa was desperately trying to stem the flow of blood that was oozing from Gara's arm when she got up and screeched over Joffrey and Arya's noise,

"No! Stop it, stop it both of you! You're spoiling everything!"

Suddenly out of nowhere, Gara saw a blur of grey and gasped as Nymeria – Arya's direwolf – sprinted past and with a ferocious growl clamped her jaws around Joffrey's wrist. He yelped frightened and in pain before falling on his back as the wolf ravaged his arm through the fine cloth, drawing blood. While he was distracted, Arya grabbed his sword and called Nymeria off. The small girl held the sword under Joffrey's chin and glared down at him, Gara looked on, her head light as Joffrey snivelled pathetically and pleaded like a bleating sheep,

"P-please, please, please don't-don't hurt me..."

"Arya!"

Cried Gara and the girl without looking away from Joffrey huffed and threw his sword into the river that flowed by the embankment. They all watched the golden weapon sink and then without warning, Arya ran off. With no strength to call her back, Gara simply watched her take flight. Sansa was quick at Joffrey's side; she was on her knees trying to soothe him,

"My poor Prince, look what they did to you!" She said, and Joffrey turned away with a sneer. "Stay here," Sansa said turning to Gara and nodded, "I'll go and fetch help-"

"Well then go!"

Boomed the Prince making Sansa jerk away then he hissed with derision,

"And don't touch me."