Disclaimer:
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 101: The Road South
The morning air felt crisp and cold as Joffrey stepped out of his quarters, his new clothes borrowed from the brothers of the Night's Watch.
They were simple but warm enough, fitting comfortably against his frame. The fabric was rough and worn, but it served its purpose.
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, its pale light casting long shadows across the frozen courtyard of Castle Black. The snow crunched beneath his boots, a sound that echoed off the ancient walls.
The cold bit at his cheeks, but he barely noticed it anymore. He had grown accustomed to the chill of the North, had learned to live with it as one learns to live with a persistent ache.
The phoenix was awake now, perched comfortably on top of Joffrey's head. Its small claws gripped his hair with surprising strength, and its golden red feathers were beginning to emit faint wisps of flame that flickered and danced in the cold air. However, the fire did not burn him.
The small creature had already gained enough control to avoid burning anything it didn't want to burn. Such was the nature of its peculiar existence, a being of fire that could choose what to consume and what to spare.
"You are going to behave well... right?" Joffrey muttered, glancing up at the bird.
The phoenix let out a soft trill, its golden eyes gleaming with intelligence.
It seemed to understand his words, though it offered no response beyond a gentle nuzzle against his hair.
The gesture was almost affectionate, and Joffrey found himself surprised by the warmth that spread through him at the contact.
Joffrey walked across the yard. The area had been cleaned of bodies, and the blood scrubbed from the stone, but the smell of death still lingered...like a faint, metallic tang that clung to the air and refused to leave. It was the smell of violence, of lives cut short, of the mess that had swept through Castle Black in the past days.
The men of the Night's Watch moved about their duties, their eyes darting toward him with a mixture of fear and awe.
They gave him ample space to move, keeping their steps quick and their voices low. They had seen what he could do, had witnessed his power firsthand, and they knew better than to get in his way.
Joffrey ignored them. His attention was fixed on the Wall.
It rose before his eyes like a mountain of obsidian, its surface smooth and dark, drinking in the light of the rising sun. Three hundred miles of black stone stretched across the horizon, a barrier that seemed to touch the sky itself. It was so tall that it seemed to cover the entire sky, its bulk casting a shadow that darkened the courtyard even at dawn.
The runes he had created still glowed faintly on its surface, golden light pulsing with a constant rhythm. They were beautiful in their own way, intricate patterns of power that had been woven into the very fabric of the stone.
Joffrey could feel them humming beneath his skin, a constant reminder of the power he had unleashed. The magic was still there, still active, still holding back the darkness that lurked beyond.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Joffrey commented, his voice carrying a note of pride. "Is it bad for me to say that?"
"It truly is magnificent. But also terrifying."
Joffrey turned to find Samwell Tarly approaching, his round face flushed with the cold. The wildling girl, Gilly, was beside him, her arms empty for once...her baby must have been resting somewhere in the castle.
Sam's eyes were fixed on the Wall, his expression a mixture of awe and fear.
"It will serve its purpose," Joffrey replied, his tone neutral. "And keep the lands safe from grumpkins, snarks, and many other things."
Sam stopped a few feet away, his eyes fixed on the phoenix. The bird regarded him with a curious tilt of its head, its golden eyes gleaming in the pale light. "I... I wanted to thank you. For everything. For helping me, for bringing Jon back, and of course, for saving Gilly." His voice was earnest, filled with a sincerity that Joffrey found almost uncomfortable.
"You don't need to thank me," Joffrey said, his voice flat. "I saved Gilly because she was with Lord Stark, whom I had promised to rescue. I brought Jon back because I was curious to see if it would work. There was no altruism involved."
Sam smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. "I don't believe that. I think there's more to you than you let on. I think you care more than you want to admit."
Joffrey raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is that so?"
"I have met a lot of cruel men, Your Grace," Sam said, his voice gaining confidence. "And I've learned that the people who try the hardest to appear cold and uncaring are often the ones who feel the most. They build walls around their hearts to protect themselves from pain."
"How profound," Joffrey said dryly.
Sam pressed on with an earnest tone. "I'm just saying that I'm grateful. That's all. You saved my life, and the lives of people I care about. That means something."
Joffrey was silent for a moment, studying the fat young man who had somehow survived the chaos of the past few days. He had a good heart, Joffrey could see that. He was loyal, intelligent, and brave in his own way...qualities that were rare in this world. Despite his fears and his doubts, he had stood firm when it mattered.
"You are leaving as well?" Joffrey asked, changing the subject. "To be with your woman, away from here?"
Sam's blush deepened, spreading across his round cheeks. "My wom-...I mean, no. I'm not leaving the Night's Watch," he said quickly. "Unlike Jon, I didn't die, so my vows are still binding. And... I don't really have a place to return to, even if I wanted to."
He glanced at Gilly, his eyes softening with an unmistakable emotion. "But I am going on a journey. Maester Aemon is very old, and he's having difficulty performing his duties. He suggested that I go to Oldtown, to the Citadel, to begin my training as a maester. When I'm done, I'll return to Castle Black and take his place."
Joffrey nodded slowly, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "A wise decision. Knowledge is power, and a maester's training will give you access to knowledge that most men could only dream of. The Citadel holds the accumulated wisdom of centuries."
Sam's face brightened, his earlier nervousness fading. "That's what I thought. And Gilly... she's going to be staying at Winterfell, with Lord Stark. Her and Val. They'll have a place to live there. They'll be safe there."
"Safe... yes." Joffrey glanced at Gilly, who was standing quietly beside Sam, her hands clasped in front of her. She looked nervous, her eyes darting between the two men, but there was a strength in her posture that had not been there before. "She will be safe there. Lord Stark is an honorable man, and he will protect her."
Gilly bowed her head, her voice soft. "Thank you, sir. For everything. I don't know how to repay you."
Joffrey waved his hand dismissively. "If you are planning on traveling with Lord Stark, you should get ready. Because we are leaving in an hour."
Sam's eyes widened, his face falling. "Leaving? So soon?"
"I have little time to waste," Joffrey said, his voice flat. "I will be bringing Lord Stark, and whoever else wants to come, to Winterfell on my carpet. It will be much faster than traveling by horse, and I have other matters to attend to."
Sam's expression faltered, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. "Other matters?"
Joffrey nodded, his voice growing distant. "I still have one more trip to make. I promised my siblings I would return them to King's Landing. I am not looking forward to it, but a promise is a promise."
He paused, his mind drifting to the distant shores of Essos. He had not forgotten about Daenerys, Saera, and the others. They should be arriving soon in Astapor, in search of an army.
It should be a matter of days by now. The thought was both a relief and a burden...another task to complete, another promise to keep.
Sam and Gilly exchanged a glance, their expressions a mixture of sadness and understanding. They knew that this parting would not be permanent, that they would see each other again, but the weight of the separation was still heavy.
Sam stepped forward, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I will write to you. Every chance I get. I promise."
Gilly's eyes glistened as well, her voice thick with emotion. "And I will write back. I'll send ravens from Winterfell, as often as I can."
They embraced, their arms wrapping around each other in a tight hug.
Sam buried his face in Gilly's hair, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Gilly held him close, her fingers running through his hair, her own tears falling freely.
Joffrey rolled his eyes, a small smirk playing at his lips. "How touching. I need to go check on my carpet. I wonder where it ended up."
As he was walking away from the two lovebirds, the phoenix on his head let out a trill, as if in agreement.
Joffrey glanced up at him. "I know, right? They should just get a room and be done with it."
He walked toward the main hall, his boots echoing against the frozen ground.
The phoenix shifted on his head, its claws adjusting their grip as it settled into a comfortable position. The bird's warmth was a pleasant contrast to the cold air, a small comfort in the frozen wasteland.
The doors of the main hall groaned as Joffrey pushed them open, their ancient hinges protesting the movement. The room beyond was dimly lit, the fires in the hearths barely enough to push back the cold.
Dozens of men were gathered inside, their pale faces and wide eyes fixed on him as he entered.
Joffrey paused, his eyes scanning the room. He had not realized how terrified they were all of him. It made sense, he supposed. These people had seen him kill Stannis and his men with magic, had learned of him helping Melisandre bring Jon back from the dead, and had witnessed him transform the entire Wall into a different material while deflecting the advances of a gigantic shadow being.
Of course they would be afraid of him. He was a monster in their eyes, a being of power beyond their comprehension.
A man approached him, his hands trembling, a bowl of soup in his hands. He was thin and tall, his face displaying his exhaustion. "My lord," he said, his voice barely audible. "Would you like... would you like some soup? We don't have much else to offer here at Castle Black, but..."
Joffrey was about to respond that he was not hungry, but the phoenix on his head began to make noises...a series of chirps and trills that were clearly expressing interest in the meal. The bird's head tilted, its golden eyes fixed on the steaming bowl.
Joffrey sighed, a long-suffering exhale. "Well, take two," he said.
The man nodded quickly, retreating toward the kitchen. Joffrey watched him go, his expression unreadable.
"And I need my carpet back," Joffrey called out, his voice carrying across the hall. "Does anyone know where it is?"
Another man stepped forward with hesitant steps, his face pale. "You mean the Lord Commander's carpet? It was returned to-"
Joffrey glared at the man, his eyes cold as winter steel. "I mean MY carpet. Bring it back. Now."
The man flinched, his face going even whiter. "Y-yes, my lord! Right away!"
"Now," Joffrey added, his voice flat.
The room trembled with his words, the men scrambling to obey. They were like frightened mice, scattering at the presence of a cat. Chairs scraped against the stone floor, boots pounded against the ground, and voices rose in a chorus of panicked whispers.
Joffrey shook his head, a small sigh escaping his lips. He walked over to a nearby table and sat down, the phoenix hopping down from his head to perch on the table beside him.
A moment later, the man returned with two bowls of soup, placing them carefully in front of Joffrey and the bird.
The phoenix began to drink eagerly, its small beak dipping into the broth. Joffrey picked up his own bowl, bringing it to his lips.
The soup was warm and hearty, filled with vegetables and chunks of meat. It was simple fare, but after everything he had been through, it tasted like a feast.
"Not bad," Joffrey muttered, taking another spoonful. "Not bad at all."
<><>
An hour later, the courtyard was bustling with activity. Ned Stark stood at the center, his face lined with exhaustion but his eyes bright with determination.
Jon was beside him, dressed in his traveling clothes, his hand resting on the hilt of Longclaw.
Val stood nearby, her spear in hand, her eyes darting across the courtyard with the vigilance of a warrior. She had not relaxed since they had arrived at Castle Black, and Joffrey doubted she ever would. The wildling woman was a survivor, and survivors never let their guard down.
Gilly was there as well, her baby cradled in her arms, her expression looking sad but resolute. She had said her goodbyes to Sam, and now she was ready to face whatever came next.
And finally, Melisandre approached as well. She no longer had a reason to remain at the wall.
Joffrey walked toward them. The phoenix was perched on his shoulder now, its red feathers gleaming under the sunlight. The bird seemed to have regained some of its strength, its eyes bright and alert.
"Everyone ready?" Joffrey asked.
Ned nodded, his voice firm. "We are."
Joffrey raised his right hand, pointing his finger at the carpet that lay on the ground nearby. It had been brought to him by the frightened brothers of the Night's Watch, its worn surface still stained with the marks of age and use.
But he had already checked it thoroughly, and the enchantments remained in full working condition.
"Engorgio," Joffrey said.
The carpet expanded, growing to several times its original size. It was large enough now to hold all of them, its edges frayed but its magic strong.
"Levioso," Joffrey added.
The carpet rose into the air, its surface hovering a few feet off the ground. The brothers of the Night's Watch stared in shock, their faces showing their fear and wonder. They had seen many strange things in the past days, but this was still beyond their comprehension.
"Get on," Joffrey said. "We're leaving."
They climbed onto the carpet, their movements cautious but much more trusting than the first time.
Except for Jon, of course, since it was the first time he had even seen the carpet fly. He stepped onto it with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism, his hand gripping the fabric tightly.
It was also the first time for Melisandre, but the red woman was more accustomed to seeing such displays of magic and remained impassive as she climbed on board.
Ned sat near the front, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Jon sat beside him, his hand still grasping at the fabric. Val settled near the back, resting her new spear across her knees. Finally, Gilly found a spot in the middle, her baby held close to her chest.
Joffrey stepped onto the carpet, the phoenix hopping from his shoulder to his head.
He gave the Wall one last look. It was a monument to his power, a testament to what he had done. But it was also a reminder of what was still to come.
"Let's get out of here," he said.
The carpet rose into the sky, its worn surface humming with magical energy.
The wind howled around them, cold and biting, but Joffrey's magic kept them warm.
The flying carpet shot out, leaving Castle Black behind, its dark walls growing smaller and smaller as they soared southward.
Behind them, the Black Wall stood as a barrier between the world of men and the darkness that lurked beyond.
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