They had ridden for days, or so he thought. He had long since lost track of the time they had been on the road, since their mad escape from the fiery hell that the tourney at Highgarden had turned into. He was sure the they had been on the road to King's Landing for at least four days, before his companions had dissuaded him from going there. But how could he not, when it was his own father whom they had brought there in chains, as if he was some common criminal? He wanted to free his father, to right the injustice that Ned Stark had to endure at the hands of his own friend.
But in the end he had caved in, under the stern reprimands of Ser Rodrik, who was the eldest and most seasoned among their small group now. The entire party had dispersed in the chaos at Highgarden, leaving them only with about a dozen men to their group, too few to seriously demand Ned Stark's release from King Robert.
So they had changed their route and traveled back north instead, but not towards Winterfell, but to Riverrun, the home of his maternal grandfather, Lord Hoster Tully. Robb could only hope that the man would know how to proceed from here on.
He was also worried for his sisters, especially Arya, who had disappeared without a trace. They knew that Sansa was in King's Landing, as they had seen her leave with the queen. It had angered him at first, that she had left without even telling their father, but he couldn't dwell on this issue for long. At least he knew where she was, whereas he had no knowledge of his younger sister's fate. Was she still alive? He hoped so. But where was she? In King's Landing, with Sansa? Or still at Highgarden... Or maybe Jory had found her and now they were on their way to Winterfell.
"Robb, look!" His half-brother, Jon, said, as he pointed at the town they could now see in the distance. "Finally, another town."
They had traveled cross-country for so long, they avoided the major roads and settlements. They had done so to avoid any contact with any unwanted parties, mostly pursuers from the Reach, but also the men of King Robert, for the unlikely case that the man had fully turned against the North.
All they had seen since then, were farms and the occasional small village. The peasants had looked astounded at the sight of the small northern group, armed and ready, accompanied by three large direwolves. Somehow it had come as no surprise, that Sansa had not brought her wolf with her to King's Landing. When she left in a hurry, she had forgotten Lady, her direwolf, who had been locked up in a kennel with Robb's wolf, Grey Wind and Jon's albino wolf, Ghost.
"That is most likely Stoney Sept, lads. I would recognize that holdfast everywhere. It was here where your lord father, with help of Jon Arryn and Lord Hoster Tully, had won a great victory against the Targaryen armies under the command of Lord Jon Connington. They had saved King Roberts life here, the king says so himself." Ser Rodrik stated proudly. "Ah, what a bloody battle that was. The battle of Bells they call it today. Back then it was just another waste of good lives to end the mad reign of a tyrant."
"So we have reached the Riverlands, good." Robb said, relieved by this. He had worried about what might happen, should they loose their way and end up in the Westerlands instead. Though the was no open animosity between the North and the Lannisters, Robb had no intention to test their hospitality.
"Aye. We should reach the Blackwater Rush in an hour or two, if we are fast. There should be a bridge that will lead us to the town." Ser Rodrik told them.
"You do know what this means?" Theon said, as he rode next to Robb. "Comfortable beds and the chance for an easy girl to warm them for us tonight." He laughed, as he saw Robb's lack of reaction to this exclamation, before he spurred his horse on to ride faster. "Come on, to the town!" But now Robb had to laugh, as he allowed his friend's enthusiasm to inspire him. He, too, would not be opposed to sleeping in a real bed this night. If they would hurry, they would be able to reach the town before nightfall.
Unbeknownst to the northern host, another group from the tragic tourney had just left the town, on their own way home. Lead by Edmure Tully, the only son and heir of Lord Hoster, the group had left the town behind to make their way to Pinkmaiden, the home of his friend and companion Ser Marq Piper.
"Ah, a day or two at most and we will be back home. I can't wait to be back and forget about this dreadful tourney. What a catastrophe of epic proportions," Marq said. Edmure had convinced the entire group to leave Stoney Sept, despite the late hour of the day. Marq knew, that his friend did not like the town, ever since an incident involving him and whore from the Peach, the local brothel. Not that Marq would have minded, as he himself was eager to get back home and once they had reached Pinkmaiden, they follow the Red Fork to reach Edmure's own home. He was just as sick and tired of the recent events as his friend, though he knew that there would be some very bad news awaiting them on their return home.
Edmure was no fool, he had seen first hand how the king's men had started the fire that burned down the entire city of tents near Highgarden. Even the most inept man would understand that this could only lead to one outcome. War. A war that the Riverlands would have to participate in, for the sake of their alliance with the current royal family.
"Yes, I'll be glad to be back home. My father's health had declined recently and I worry for him. Maybe it was too selfish to leave for this tourney. I am his only son and heir after all." Edmure mused. He knew about his responsibilities, about the burden he would have to shoulder in the future. These lands all around him, the Riverlands, his lands. All of this would be his, to govern as his father and all the other Tully's had done since the time of Aegon's Conquest. He loved these lands and would protect his home against any enemies, be they dragons or lions or whatever the gods would throw against him.
"Ser Edmure! The Maester sends for you." A young squire ran up to him, panting as he came to a hold next to Edmure's horse.
"Has he mentioned what he wants?" The Tully heir asked in return.
It took the boy some moments to reign control over his breath, before he answered. "The girl, she has woken up."
"It's about time. Your little sleeping sunshine has taken a pretty long beauty sleep. I just hope she is worth the trouble, Edmure. Pretty she may be, but I would have never thought that you are into girls this... young." Marq jested.
Edmure shot him a withering glare, before he dismounted and handed the squire the reigns of his horse. "Keep an eye on my horse, Harwyn." He ordered the boy, before he walked the short distance to the small carriage they had acquired on their way back, to house their special guest. Marq followed him, though at a much more sedated pace.
"Easy, easy, my friend. It's not like she can run away from you now." Marq said with a laugh, as they reached the roadhouse.
The young Maester, who had traveled with them on his own way to the Fairmarket, exited the carriage as they arrived. He smiled happily at them, obviously elated by his own success.
"Ah, Ser Edmure, Ser Marq. Right on time. She is awake and lucid now. I have just changed the bandage on her right hand and cleaned the wound once more, but she should be lucid and in good spirits. She even declined the milk of the poppy to lessen the pain." The Maester said, "If you allow, I will go now and clean myself up."
"Wait. What about the wound on her hand? Will it heal?" Edmure wanted to know.
"The wounds are healing nicely. She was lucky that you were right on time to aid her, else she could have very well lost that hand, but as things are right now, the hand will heal completely. But even I cannot prevent the scarring."
Edmure breathed a relieved sigh. These news were good. A few scars on the hand won't be too bad, at least not in relation to what could have happened. The Maester finally left and Edmure opened the door of the carriage.
Inside he quickly found himself face to face with his special guest. Tully blue eyes stared into those haunting violet eyes of the girl, who only watched him with distrust and a hint of anger shining in those gems.
"Who are you?" The girl demanded to know.
"Easy there, girl. You have just woken up from more than a week of unconsciousness. The few times you had woken up, you had been barely lucid, suffering from your fever induced hallucinations." Edmure said, as he sat down opposite of the girl.
"Who. Are. You?" She demanded one more time.
"What a single-tracked mind." Marq stated, as he watched the girl, grinning brightly, "I don't understand what you see in her, Edmure."
"Shut up, Marq." Edmure replied in indignation, before he pushed his friend out of the carriage. "Oh well, as my obtrusive friend has said, my name is Edmure. Ser Edmure Tully of Riverrun to be precise." Now he saw a different reaction from the girl. Shock. For a moment he worried that she would faint or become catatonic, but luckily that wasn't the case.
"Where are we?"
"On the road to Pinkmaiden, but we will continue to Riverrun soon after arriving there."
A long moment of silent followed this statement, as Edmure watched the girl with great interest. He had only seen her from afar, before he had found her in the burning remains of his tent. But he had heard about her, from his nephew, who seemed smitten with the girl... or at least very interested.
"Why... why am I here? I shouldn't be here. I should not be in the Riverlands." The girl stated.
"I found you. You were unconscious, partly buried under the burning remains of my tent. When I came to retrieve some personal belongings I found you and brought you to safety." Edmure told her, feeling proud of himself. He had saved a damsel in distress, just like in those stories his mother had told him when he was a small child.
"But why the Riverlands. You could have left me there. The Tyrells would have found me or Ser Daven or..."
"You are Joanna Lannister, are you not?" Edmure asked. There was little doubt, but he wanted to hear it from her own lips, just to know for sure.
"Yes... but what does that have to do with all of this?" She replied hesitantly.
Now Edmure's own smile widened. He was glad, he had not made a mistake. He had the right girl. Robb would be happy, once he finds out.
"Well, I found you there. Wounded. All alone without anyone. No guards, no servants. You did try to run away, did you not? To run away with my nephew, Robb Stark. Why else would you have been there, within our part of the camp, without anyone else."
"WHAT?" Now her expression turned into outrage. "Why would you believe such a thing? Are you mad?"
Now this was not the kind of reaction he had expected. "You were not running away?" He asked, hoping for one answer, though he already knew that it would the another.
"NO! You imbecile. You insipid fish. I was on my way to Highgarden, when your king's men attacked my escort. You kidnapped me for such a dumb reason, though you had no idea whether there really exists any kind of relationship between me and your nephew!"
"There isn't?"
"NO. We danced during the wedding feast, otherwise we had little to no contact at all. Just what gave you the idea that there was something between us?"
"I just... I mean..." Oh how he cursed his luck. Had he been so blind to see that Robb's ramblings were nothing more than the words of lovestruck boy? The feeling was obviously not mutual. And now he had brought the girl all the way to the Riverlands.
And the girl was clearly very upset because of this. He realized with a horror that he had kidnapped the granddaughter of Tywin Lannister, a man who even his father was very reluctant to cross. Oh this would not end well at all.
He tried to calm her down, as he saw how hysteric the girl had become. But as he tried to rub her back in a soothing manner, like his mother had done for him when he was a small boy, she knocked his hand away with a strength he had not expected her to have. But she regretted that action quickly, when she used her bandaged hand for that. She yelped in pain and cradled the hand close to her chest.
"Easy, your hand was in a bad condition. It took the most damage from the fire and the wound had caused you a fever and a lot of trouble. Do not trouble your hand unnecessarily..." Edmure reprimanded her worriedly.
"Out! Out with you. Just leave me alone." Joanna said in obvious distress. Edmure hesitated for a moment, before he came to the conclusion that it would be better to leave her alone for some moments, so she could calm down, before he would talk to her again.
So he left the carriage, his mind troubled by this revelation. He had made a terrible mistake and now he would have to find a solution... Marq would obviously not be helpful with this mess either. His friend was too busy laughing at him.
"Oh this is so rich. You kidnapped the granddaughter of one of the most powerful lords in Westeros. And she is also a close friend of the last dragon in the realm. You messed up big time, Edmure." Marq said, as he couldn't stop laughing. He obviously knew that this situation was dire, but he couldn't help himself but laugh about his friend's blunder.
All Edmure could reply in his current situation was a halfhearted, "Shut up, Marq," before he walked back to his horse. This was not a good day for him. But maybe his father would know how to right this... he could only hope.
Around the same time as Edmure's enlightening revelation, Robb and the northern group had finally reached Stoney Sept, to search for some quarters for the night. The town was still busy, despite the late hour of the day. People were bustling everywhere, on the market square the last merchants tried to sell their remaining wares, praising their products loudly for everyone to hear.
"Lively place, this town. A nice difference to those dull farms and villages we have seen so far," Theon said with a laugh, as he looked around, obviously searching for something. When he finally found it, he quickly steered his horse away from the group, only motioning for Robb to follow him.
"Oh what now? I am tired, Theon and all I want is a warm bed and maybe something to eat before." Robb complained, as he followed his father's ward.
"Stop whining, Robb, I know the perfect place for us to stay. I heard that the king himself stays there every time he comes to Stoney Sept."
"You heard that where?" Robb asked doubtfully.
"From the king himself of course. He loves to talk when he is drunk and his stories are hilarious most of the time." Theon said, as he finally stopped in front of a building with old, white washed walls. Above the door hung a wooden sign, with the picture of a peach, with a single bite taken out of it.
"Just what is this place?"
"A brothel!" Ser Rodrik barked vexed. "How dare you insolent boy to take Lord Stark's son to such a disgusting establishment." The old man looked angrily at Theon, who only smirked in return.
"Ah, my lord, but this is not just a whore house. We also offer rooms without... special services." A girl had come out of the building, a young thing that couldn't be that much older than Robb, with curly black hair and blue eyes. "Come in, come in. We can offer you everything your heart could desire for the night. And I mean everything." The girl said, showing Robb a sultry smile as she looked him in the eyes.
"Ah, my dear, don't waste your charms on Robb, the little boy is as stiff as his father. But you can always show me what have learned here, pretty girl," Theon said, as he jumped down from his horse. He threw the reins of the horse at one of the northern men in Robb's retinue, before walked up to the girl.
"Theon!" Robb scolded his friend in annoyance.
"What? You've heard the girl. They also have an inn for prudes like you. Come on. If the king likes this place, then it can't be all that bad." Theon said, before he grabbed the girl and squeezed her bum appreciatively. "And I can already tell that they have some very nice things to offer."
Robb sighed, clearly annoyed, but he also dismounted and made to follow his friend inside. Ser Rodrik looked at the son of his lord with an expression that varied between shock and indignation.
"Lord Robb, you shouldn't..."
"They did say that this is an inn and I am tired of riding. Let's give it a try. Theon is right, ff the king likes this place, than it can't be all that bad." Robb said, though he knew that king Robert liked every whore house from Dorne to the Wall. But he was really tired and just wanted to get away from his horse for some time.
So he followed Theon inside. The building was warm, much warmer than he had expected. Maybe it was his fur cloak, but he was sure that this heat was not the norm for this town. But there was not the musky smell he would have expected from a brothel, much to his relief. In fact what he could see so far, looked like a perfectly normal inn and nothing like the brothel outside of Winterfell, where he had accompanied Theon to on some occasions.
His friend was obviously very happy, as he had already found himself a table and some girls to keep him company. "Robb, come, join us." The young man called. But Robb was reluctant at first. What would his father think, would he see him here, in a brothel, with Theon. The visits in Winterfell were always short, as he would quickly leave once Theon had disappeared in a room. But here he would stay the night... alone, if he had a say in it.
"Come and sit down, you prude. These girls don't bite... unless you pay them to, that is." Theon said with a lecherous grin. "This pretty one is Bess," he nodded towards the busty girl to his left, who seemed obviously delighted by the attention. And why not, just by looking at how Theon and Robb were dressed, it was obvious that they came from wealth. "And this one is... ahm..."
"Bella. I was named for the battle." The other girl said, as she eyed Robb with undisguised interest. It was the same girl that had greeted them outside.
"You want one, Robb? I can share. Or we can see if they have others that are more to your taste." Theon offered readily. For months his friend had pestered him to go wenching with him, much to Robb's annoyance and his mother's horror.
"No thanks," Robb replied quickly.
"Haha, prude," Theon laughed. The girls giggled with him, not that Robb would have cared. "Ah but don't mind him girls. My dear friend here still moons over the one girl in Westeros he could never possibly have."
"I am not mooning. It was your loud mouth that has spread those rumors. I was merely intrigued by her, nothing more."
"If you are so insistent on having a Lannister girl, go and have your father propose a match for you and the king's daughter. She is as much Lannister as that Dornish girl. I have no doubts that the king would agree readily, it is not like he could deny Eddard Stark anything."
"You know the king?" the black haired girl asked curiously.
"Yeah we do. Robb's father is the kings best friend."
"Theon!" Robb looked reprimanding at his friend. This really wasn't the place to spread such knowledge. No one could say who was here to eavesdrop. Though the Riverlands belonged to his grandfather, Robb would not feel completely safe until they have returned to the North, where his father's loyal lords would do anything to help them out.
"The king came here often in the past," The girl said happily, "My mother was his favorite, every time he spent the night in the Peach."
"Wait... does that mean?" Theon asked perplexed.
The girl nodded, albeit more bashfully than before. "Yes... though he would never claim the child of a whore. I doubt he even knows that I exist. He hasn't been here in years."
Theon laughed loudly, as they realized what this girl had just claimed, "Just our luck, ey, Robb. Of all the brothels in all of Westeros we stay in the one with his bastard daughter in it. Well I am not one to complain. Never had a royal bastard in bed before."
"Well go, have your fun. I'll see you in the morning," Robb said, hoping that Theon would finally leave him alone. He really had other things to worry about at the moment.
"Suit yourself." Theon said, "Let's go girls. Let's make this night worth my money." He stood up and left, one girl in each arm, as they ascended the nearby steps to the guest room above.
Robb meanwhile welcomed the moment of peace. He looked around and saw his half-brother, Jon, together with Ser Rodrik and some of the other men. They sat at another table and conversed quietly. It was almost as if they had come to the decision to leave him alone for now. Robb was glad for that. Captured fathers, missing sisters, a new war in the south... it was as if the gods wanted to test him. But he felt as if this sudden burden could very well crush him, should he show even the tiniest sign of weakness.
After days of following the Red Fork, Edmure had finally reached his home. Riverrun. Oh how much he loved this place. How much he had missed the castle, surrounded by the rivers, its sandstone walls, rising from the water. Boisterous and lively Riverrun. At last, he was at home.
People were already waiting for him, as he rode through large gate into the courtyard of the castle, followed by Marq and the carriage. He recognized his father's castellan immediately, though the bearded man looked older than in his memory. He seemed worried and that alone was enough to turn Edmure's good mood sour.
"Ser Edmure, finally. We had been worried, when we heard about the events at Highgarden. Your lord father was very worried about your safety." The castellan said, as he approached his lord's heir.
"How is my father?" Edmure knew that his father had been ill for a long time. But at least he was lucid and his mind was clear when he had left for Highgarden. It had given him some hope that his father might recover in the end.
"Not good, I'm afraid," but all hope was for naught it seemed. "His health has declined further. The Maester fears that he won't be able to rule for much longer."
"Then I will do what is necessary for Riverrun and the Riverlands." Edmure said solemnly. At least this did not come as a surprise. He had known for some time that he would have to rule soon. And he would do his father proud. "I will see him now." But before he left, he turned towards his friend. Marq had come the whole way to Riverrun with him, to help wherever he can. "Marq, could please take care of Lady Joanna. Tell the servants to give her a nice room and send for the Maester to look at her wounds."
"Sure. I will take care of your special guest."
Edmure nodded, before he followed the castellan to his father's solar. He really needed to talk to his father. This whole Joanna problem was just one of the things he had misjudged recently. From what he had seen, the war had already started and his father had already begun to gather his troops in the name of the king.
When they had reached the solar, Edmure's eyes quickly found his father. The once proud lord looked pale and haggard now. He was nothing like the proud man Edmure remembered from his childhood. His face was so gaunt, his once brown hair now as pale as the snow in the North.
"Father, I've returned." Edmure announced, as he approached Lord Hoster. The old man did not react at first, only when Edmure stood directly in front of him, he looked up. It even took him some moments to realize that the man before him was his son. It pained Edmure to see his father like this, but it made one thing clear, his time to fool around was over. He had to take over now.
"Edmure... finally. You took your time to get here." Lord Hoster said. He had to cough strongly after these few words and was clearly out of breath. "We have war, my foolish son, and you will have to lead out troops. I have sent for my brother, but you know your uncle. I would be surprised should he come. We have spent so many years on arguing and fighting, we are too far to go back to being a simple family."
"Our family was hardly ever simple." Edmure replied with a smile. "Have you told Catelyn and Lysa about your declining health?"
"Why worry them. Lysa has just lost her husband and Cat is busy with her own children. Let them live their lives."
"Catelyn's husband is currently imprisoned in King's Landing. I only heard rumors, but they say that he revolted against the king and raised his sword against him. Something about dishonorable actions done by the king."
"Pah, those Starks and their honor. Eddard is an honorable fool, I preferred his brother. Brandon Stark was a man of action, a man who knew that sometimes you have to bend the laws to see the necessary results... but look where their actions have lead them. Brandon is dead and his honorable brother has managed to become the prisoner of his own friend... foolish children." Hoster rambled.
"There is more, father... I... have made a mistake." Edmure admitted hesitantly. But before he could fully confess his blunder, the castellan returned.
"Excuse me, my lord, but your grandson has arrived with a small group of northmen. He has asked to see you, so I have brought him."
"Which grandson? I remember having several." Hoster asked grumpily.
"It is me, Robb Stark," Edmure smiled elatedly, as he saw Robb enter. He was glad to see that his nephew was free and well.
"Catelyn's boy?"
"Aye, father. Catelyn's oldest son, their heir to Winterfell and the North." Edmure supplied helpfully.
"Grandfather, I have come to ask for your help. The king keeps my father as a prisoner, but I currently lack the proper means to force him to release..."
"Don't. I will hear none of this. Your father is responsible for his own actions. We have more important threats to think about. Should the Targaryens win in this war, they will not just take the Iron Throne, but they will destroy all those who have supported the rebels in the last war. Baratheon, Tully, Arryn, Stark, all of our Houses would be at risk. If that girl is as vicious as the king claims, she will stop at nothing to see our lines extinct. My armies will support King Robert and that is my last word. And you would be well advised to do so as well. This is about more than just the quarrel between two friends." Hoster raged. But the anger he showed, was clearly aggravating for his current condition. He descended into another coughing fit.
"Father, rest now. I will take care of everything." Edmure offered, as he saw his father's condition.
"I am not dead yet, Edmure. Don't treat me like a corpse before I have stopped breathing." Hoster barked angrily. "But you were about to confess something. Out with it, boy."
"AH... yes. I may have made a grave mistake before we left Highgarden... it turns out that I have brought along a guest... against her will as it seems..."
"You have kidnapped someone?" Robb asked, looking aghast at his uncle.
"Not intentionally. She was hurt and unconscious when I took her. It was really just a misunderstanding." Edmure said. He felt uncomfortable under the steely glare of his father and the shocked look of his nephew.
"And who is this girl, that she worries you so?"
"Joanna Lannister, the daughter of the Kingslayer and apparently Lord Tywin's favorite granddaughter..." Edmure mumbled.
"What?" Robb's shock only grew as he heard that. It was clearly a very unexpected turn of events. The girl that Theon had teased him with was suddenly not a world away, but in the very same castle, under his uncle's care.
But Lord Hoster was an entirely different case. He grew silent and solemn, refusing to meet his son's eyes, as he looked out of the window of his solar. He appeared to be in deep thought.
"Do you have any idea what you have done? The Kingslayer is a Targaryen loyalist. You have just given them another reason to march upon the Riverlands first, before they would attack the Baratheon's strongholds. And just what do you expect Tywin Lannister will do? Should I send her to the king, we will antagonize the Lannisters by handing over one of their family to a sworn enemy. But keeping her here will only give those bloody lions a reason to turn on us. Not to mention that the king will demand her, as soon as he finds out." Hoster hollered at his son. "I want her gone. I don't care what you do with her, just get rid of her. Get her out of my castle and of the Riverlands if possible."
"But..."
"Enough. Mistake or not, this girl will not stay in my home. She will only invite disaster."
"I will take her," Robb offered quickly, "I will take her with me, when I leave for the North. Not even the Lannisters would dare to attack my father's lands. And it is as far away from the Targaryens as possible in Westeros."
"Are you sure about this?" Edmure questioned. He wasn't sure why his nephew would offer this. The girl had made it painfully clear that she and Robb were not involved in any way, but did his nephew feel the same? Or was there another reason for his decision?
"Yes. She is too valuable to just give her back to the enemy." Robb said, though Edmure wasn't sure if the boy really meant what he said, "That dragon princess cares a great deal about this girl, I have a feeling that she will be important in the future."
"Do what you want. Just get her out of my castle." Lord Hoster ordered gruffly. "Now leave me. I wish to rest..."
"Of course, grandfather," Robb said, then he left the room.
Edmure waiting for another moment and watched his father carefully. The castellan was right, his father would not last for much long. No matter how painful it was to admit it, the days of Lord Hoster Tully were numbered. He would have to write his sisters about this development... and his uncle. Brynden Tully might not be on the best terms with his brother, but even he would come, once he finds out that his brother is dieing.
He left the room and descended the stairs at a slow pace. Too much was on his mind now. A war was coming. A big one, too. He would have to take over as lord of the Riverlands... yet he did not even have an heir of his own, should anything happen to him during this war. Maybe he should have listened to his father more and spent his time finding a noble girl to settle down with... he could not allow to Tully name to fade away.
Robb waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, an expectant look on his face. "Where is the girl, uncle? I would like to leave for Winterfell as soon as my men and our horses are rested. If there is really a war coming, I will have to assemble my father's troops."
Edmure still wasn't all that convinced about Robb's true intentions concerning the girl, "Robb, just so you know, that girl does not love you. She is indifferent at best, nothing more. Believe me, I asked."
Robb merely smiled benignly. "I know. But this isn't about love. It is just as I have said, she will be important in the future... and she is... intriguing."
"If you say so. I cannot forbid you to take her. Just be careful. It is a very bad idea to cross Tywin Lannister. So any harm done to his granddaughter will be paid in blood by your family and your people."
Robb nodded, as they walked through the long corridors of Riverrun together. "But tell me, uncle, how did Joanna come into your custody?"
"Pure coincidence. I went back to my tent to grab something, before we had to leave in a hurry. But my tent was already burning and half destroyed at that time. I found her there, half covered by the burning remains of my tent. I thought that she had tried to run away, since she was all alone and inside of our camp... it was a mistake on my part. But I saved her and brought her along on our way north. She was badly wounded, but luckily we met a young Maester who was on his way to his new lord, who helped us with her."
"How bad were her wounds?"
"Small burns all over her body, but those were not really bad and have all but healed by now. She had a nasty bump on her head, but that has gone as well. The major problem was her right hand. It had been covered by the burning remnants of my tent. The burning on her hand was bad and still is. The wound had nearly gotten infected, had it not been for that young Maester. She suffered from fever and hallucinations for several days and was barely lucid. Well was... she was less than amused and very vocal about her situation after she had woken up."
"Will her wounds heal? Her family would be very angry, should she suffer from any lasting wounds." Robb asked, clearly concerned with her wellfare.
"The Maester said that there will be some scars left on her hand and lower arm, but she should not suffer any long term ailments. Don't worry." Edmure assured his nephew. "But be warned, she can be pretty mean when she is angry. That tongue of hers is sharper than my sword and she has no problems using it."
"I think I can handle that."
"Your burial," Edmure retorted dryly. "Ah, there is Marq. I guess that she is inside this room?" He asked Marq Piper, as he and Robb had reached him.
"Yes, but the Maester is still with her. Unless you wish to see her undressed, you should wait." Marq said with a grin. "What? I am not a pervert. I can admit that she is pretty, but she is still a child and we should not peek. In a few years though..."
Neither Robb nor Edmure commented on that last exclamation and so the group lapsed into a comfortable silence, until the door of the room opened and the Maester stepped outside.
"Ah, Lord Edmure. Your young guest is on a good way towards recovery. I would say it will take about a fortnight or so, until she will no longer need the bandages around her hand and arm. But she is in no immediate danger any more."
"Very good. May we see her now?" Robb asked eagerly.
"Of course. But I must warn you, she is not in the best mood right now." The Maester warned, before he excused himself to look after Lord Hoster.
The three men entered the room soon after the Maester's departure, only to find themselves on the receiving end of Joanna Lannister's very unnerving glare. There was anger and malice in those violet orbs, that made Edmure shudder. He had seen such a glare before, from another golden haired Lannister. He had been a young boy then, when his father had taken him along on a visit to King's Landing, where he had met two Lannisters who had perfected this glare. Lord Tywin and Queen Cersei. Even though this girl had been raised in Dorne, she was a Lannister through and through. Edmure really hoped that Robb knew what he was getting himself into.