JOANNA

The moment she was thrown from the boat Joanna thought she was going to die. She was finally being punished for her sins, the gods had finally deemed her unworthy enough to keep living a life of sin. Jaime now knew of her relationship with Joffrey and the enemy knew as well. If the masculine woman wanted to she could immediately return to the Stark camp and tell Robb Stark of her sin.

She wasn't used to swimming in fast moving rivers, the sea by Casterley Rock familiar enough to escape any currents. Dragged downstream her head kept being pulled underwater before she could take a breath. Joanna was tossed around the murky water and it kept becoming harder to breathe as she was pulled under.

Please, she prayed. If there is even one part of me that deserves forgiveness then let me live.

Joanna was already weak from her loss only a few days prior and had she been at full health she would have more strength to battle the currents.

As the air left her lungs her mind was filled with faces.

Joffrey.

Uncle Jaime.

Mother.

Myrcella.

Tommen.

Some smiling. Some disappointed.

Her vision clouded as her family vanished.

SOME TIME LATER

Something warm was placed on her face. Muffled voices were in the background as the mist was slowly lifted from her mind. Memories of prior events slowly began to return her and she briefly wondered if she had died and she was now to be punished in hell.

"-by the river. Barely alive." A voice said, male and elderly.

Joanna tried to sit up but she only succeeded in groaning in pain. Her chest and lungs ached, causing her to start coughing relentlessly.

Footsteps started towards her and soon she could feel a presence beside her. Cautiously opening her eyes Joanna was met by the short figure of a greying woman. Approximately the same age as her grandfather but the poor standard of clothing suggested that she was much poorer.

"Here's some water." The woman held a cup to her mouth and slowly tipped then cold water down her throat. The liquid tasted far different from the pure water she normally drinks in Kings Landing though lately she had probably indulged in more wine than water.

The pain in her throat diminished enough for her to attempt to speak. "I-"

The man she had heard before approached her and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Don't try and speak just yet. Your lungs were filled with water when I found you. It's lucky I was walking by the river when I found you. You were caught on a branch, unconscious so I managed to resuscitate you. I brought you back to my house where you have been for the past week. A few times you have woke but you kept falling back."

Glancing down at herself Joanna saw that the leather and cotton travelling clothes that Lady Stark had gifted her to replace her blood stained ones had been replaced by a dirty, off-white night gown that was far too big and short for her. She stared critically at the garment, thinking that she wouldn't normally be caught dead in such a poor quality dress.

The man glanced at his wife? "My wife changed you out of your wet clothes. She's given you one of her old dresses. It's nowhere near the same quality as you previous clothes but it's all we have."

Joanna managed a nod and took her time to evaluate her surroundings. She was sat in a make-shift bed at the side of a small room. All the furniture was wooden and light was spilling in through gaps in the roof and walls. With a closer glance she realised that this was the only room in the house and she was occupying the only bed in the home.

"I'm Tomas and this is my wife Hema. Can you remember your name?" The man, Tomas, asked.

She nodded and was about to say her true name: Joanna Baratheon, but then she realised something. She had no idea who these people were and what side of the war they were on. By revealing her true identity she could be making herself a hostage again.

"Emicah. Emicah Waters." She lied, hoping they believed her.

For some reason this made Hema frown, a glazed look appearing in her eyes. "We had a grandson who had a similar name." Tomas explained.

Hema looked sadly at her. "His name was Mycah. He was killed by one of the Kingsguard for no reason. Since then we've have a mistrust of anyone from the Crownlands."

That name sparked something inside of Joanna, the name somewhat familiar. That is when she remembered where she knew it from.

Mycah had been the name of the boy who attacked Joffrey along with Arya Stark and her rabid direwolf. And now here she was, the sister of the boy who led to the death of the grandson of the people who saved her life.

She was glad then that she had lied about her identity.