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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
ASOIAF and all of its characters belong to GRRM
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 87: The Road North
The morning sun had begun to peak through the high walls of Winterfell, casting pale golden light across the snow-dusted courtyard.
For many, the morning sun in the North seemed weak and did little to warm the air. But for Joffrey, who had spent a very long time living in the perpetual twilight of Asshai, the light was almost blindingly bright.
He blinked against it, his eyes adjusting slowly to the harsh whiteness of the snow and the pale blue of the winter sky.
He stood near the great gate of the castle, dressed in simple furs and wool. The remains of his crimson armor and broken sword were left behind in the maester's study, like shattered relics.
His new metallic hand gleamed under the sunlight, its surface polished to a dull shine.
Tommen stood beside him, his golden hair ruffled by the wind, his green eyes fixed on the metallic limb with a mixture of wonder and unease.
The boy had grown in the years since Joffrey had last seen him...he was now taller, his face losing its childish softness, though his eyes still held that same innocence.
"Does it hurt?" Tommen finally asked.
"It does not." Joffrey flexed his fingers. The metal joints moved smoothly and silently. "It feels a little strange, but it does not hurt."
"Can you feel things with it? Cold? Heat?"
"I cannot tell the difference between cold and hot, but I do feel the pressure when I grab something. Although it is very muted and not entirely accurate."
Tommen looked up at him. "Will you be able to fight with it?"
"I normally wield the sword with my right hand alone, so that will not be a problem." Joffrey could tell that Tommen was worried about his next journey to the far north. "I will manage. No need for concern."
Myrcella approached from the direction of the keep, her golden hair tied back, her green eyes troubled. She had been quiet since the night before, since Joffrey had announced his intention to ride north.
Now she stood before him, her hands clasped before her.
"You are not well," she said. Her eyes moved to his chest, to the deep gash hidden beneath the furs. "You should not be riding anywhere with those wounds."
"I am well enough."
"But your chest—"
"It has almost completely healed. The ointment worked like a charm, just as I told you." He touched the bandages beneath his furs. The wound was still tender, still healing, but the necrosis had stopped. The curse of the crystal blade was contained. "I will not die of an infected cut, sister. I promise you that."
Myrcella's jaw tightened. "That is not the only thing that could kill you. What about the wildlings?"
Joffrey shrugged. "I am not worried about a few savages with dull axes." He met her eyes. "I will return. And when I do, I will take you home."
She wanted to argue. He could see it in her face, in the set of her mouth, in the furrow of her brow. But she did not want to startle their little brother, so she nodded and stepped back.
"Are we going to see Mum again?" Tommen asked.
Joffrey nodded. "You are. Very soon. I promise."
The boy smiled and said nothing else.
Soon enough, Robb Stark approached from the stables, leading a tall grey horse by the reins. The beast was lean and strong, its breath misting in the cold air. Its eyes were wide and wary, as if it sensed the tension in the yard.
"The horse is yours," Robb said. "He is fast and strong. The best one we got. He will get you to the Wall in no time."
Joffrey took the reins. "Thank you."
"Are you certain you do not want armor? I could have the smith—"
"No." Joffrey cut him off. "Armor would take time to fit. Time we do not have. And my magic is better protection than any steel. The sword is more than enough." He tapped the large blade tied to his back.
"What about taking some of our men with you? We can spare a hundred or so. They would be of much help."
"Not necessary," Joffrey responded. "I will go faster by myself."
Robb nodded slowly. He did not look convinced, but he did not argue. He had learned, in the past two years, that Joffrey Baratheon was not a man who could be persuaded.
"Joffrey…"
He glanced in the direction of the sweet voice. Sansa appeared at the top of the steps, her auburn hair looking bright against the grey stone of the castle.
She had grown in the years since Joffrey had last seen her. She was now taller, more beautiful, her face losing its childish softness. She descended the stairs and approached him.
"Be careful," she said. "The road north is dangerous. There could be wild beasts or worse along the way."
"I will be fine."
"I know." She looked at his metal arm, at the bandages beneath his furs. "But I wanted to say it anyway."
Joffrey inclined his head. "Thank you, Lady Sansa."
She smiled. "When you return... perhaps we could talk. There is much I would like to say, but..."
"Of course." Joffrey nodded.
Arya appeared at Sansa's side, her grey eyes sharp and her dark hair pulled back from her face.
She had her sword at her hip, Needle, as she called it, and her hand rested on the pommel as if she expected to use it at any moment. Her eyes were bright as she opened her mouth to speak.
"Is it true? Are you really a sorcerer?"
"Arya!" Sansa's voice was sharp. "You cannot ask-"
Joffrey chuckled. "Is that what you heard of me?"
"I heard many things." Arya responded. "All kinds of rumors."
"Arya… that is enough." Sansa's cheeks were getting red.
"It is okay. I do not mind. I suppose you have heard all sorts of strange rumors coming from the east. And I am sure many of them are true, but you should not take them all to heart. See for yourself and make your own decisions."
"So… are you?"
All eyes were on him.
"A sorcerer? I suppose that I am, among other things. I have some unique abilities." There was no point in denying it after all he had done.
"Can you show me?" Arya's tone was more polite now.
"What do you wish for me to show?"
"The fire bird!" Arya exclaimed.
"Have you lost your mind?!" Robb immediately said. "Our main hall is half melted after what happened yesterday. I can still feel the heat coming from the stones."
"Okay, he can make a smaller one," Arya added. "I could not see it well last time. Can you do it again?"
Joffrey pretended to be considering the request for a moment. Then he raised his right hand. A small flame flickered to life in his palm, orange and gold. It danced and grew, taking shape, becoming a bird no larger than his fist. It flapped its wings once, twice, and then dissolved into smoke.
"That should do it."
"Whoa!" Tommen had sparks in his eyes. Joffrey could tell that he was going to receive more requests from his little brother.
Arya's eyes were wide. "Can you teach me?"
Joffrey studied her for a moment. The girl was fierce, determined, hungry for power in a way that reminded him of himself, in another life, another world.
"Perhaps one day, when I have the time to spare." He did not know if she would be capable of producing any spell, but Starks seem to carry some magic in their blood, so it may be possible.
It seemed like an interesting project for the future.
"Okay, it is time for me to go." Joffrey said while looking at his siblings.
"Get ready. When I come back from the Wall… I will take you to King's Landing."
Tommen nodded. "I will be ready."
Myrcella joined them, her green eyes wet. "You promised you would come back. The Lannisters always keep their promises, do not forget about that."
"Not sure how much of a proper Lannister I am, but I always keep my promises." He touched her cheek with his flesh hand. "I will see you soon."
He turned and mounted the grey horse. The beast shifted beneath him, uneasy, but settled when Joffrey pressed his heels into its flanks.
"Open the gate," Robb commanded.
The great wooden doors groaned and swung open, revealing the snow-covered road beyond. The wind howled, carrying flakes of white that stung the eyes and chilled the skin.
"Safe travels, Joffrey." Robb wished him good luck as he took off.
Joffrey did not look back. He kicked the horse into a canter, then a gallop, and rode through the gate. The road north stretched before him, cold and empty.
Behind him, the gates of Winterfell closed with a sound like thunder.
<><><><><><><><><><><><>
The courtyard went silent.
Robb Stark stood at the gate, watching the road until the rider disappeared into the white. The wind howled, and the snow swirled, and soon there was nothing left to see but the empty expanse of the road.
"He is gone," Sansa said from behind him. Her voice was soft, uncertain.
"He is gone," Robb agreed.
They stood in silence for a long moment. The Stark veterans who had gathered to see the prince off drifted back to their duties, their breath misting in the cold air.
Tommen had retreated to the keep while Myrcella claimed she wanted to visit the Sept. It was obvious she wanted to pray for her brother to have a safe trip, so no one commented on it. Sansa even promised to join her a bit later.
Arya lingered near the steps, her grey eyes fixed on the road north.
"He will come back with Father and Bran," Arya said. "Right?"
"I have the feeling that if anyone can do that… it is him." Robb responded.
"We can only have hope and do everything that is in our hands." He would continue to prepare an expedition north, just in case.
Around ten more minutes had passed in silence, and the audience at the courtyard had cleared.
"Arya, let us come back inside. It is very cold here." Robb had only turned around when he heard someone shouting.
His eyes found a figure running across the yard. "Lord Stark! Lord Stark!" A young boy, no older than Bran, came rushing from the direction of the maester's tower. In his hand, he clutched a rolled parchment.
"A raven, my lord. From Castle Black. The maester… there is no maester, so they sent me to…"
"Give it here." Robb snatched the parchment from the boy's hand and broke the seal with urgency.
"Is it from Father?" Arya leaned closer to see. "Are they okay?"
Robb began to read it out loud, his eyes scanning every word.
"Castle Black taken. Stannis Baratheon holds the Wall. Eddard Stark arrested for treason. Refused to bend the knee. Held in the ice cells. Bran is fine for now. Request immediate aid. Jon."
The letter was short and to the point. The handwriting was rushed and sloppy, but Robb could recognize his half-brother's writing on it.
"Oh no…" His blood ran cold.
"Father has been arrested again?!" Arya shouted.
The commotion began to attract people back to the courtyard. Sansa was the first one to approach. "What is it?" Her eyes moved to the letter in Robb's hand.
"Stannis has taken control of Castle Black with his army. He now holds Father prisoner…" Robb muttered.
"We have to go. We have to ride north and-"
"We will, but…" Robb paused. He had already called the banners, but it had only been hours since then. "It will take time to form an army strong enough to face Stannis. We do not even know how many men he has at the moment."
"Wait… what about Joffrey?" Arya asked. "Is he not in trouble? He does not know Stannis is there."
"She is right!" Sansa said. "We have to warn him. If Stannis sees him…"
Robb knew this too. Stannis was the enemy of all the Lannisters. And more so, the children of Queen Cersei. The self-proclaimed king would not let the opportunity escape if Joffrey appeared before him and his army.
"I will send some scouts immediately, but… I do not know if they will be able to catch him. I gave Joffrey our fastest horse, and he is not likely to stop before reaching the Wall."
"He is riding into a trap…" Arya muttered.
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
Robb looked at the grey sky, at the snow that showed no sign of stopping, at the empty road north.
There was nothing they could do but wait...and pray that the one-armed prince would somehow survive what awaited him.
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