Joffrey opened his mouth to reply to Arya when Elowen turned around, slowly, meticulous almost. Her injured hand pushed the bloody and dirty blade away from her, carelessly as her finger touched the ever so sharp blade without any regard for any new cuts it might make.

"Don't be daft Arya," Elowen scolded her sister, coldly, like icy water sliding from the roof and onto an unsuspecting person, "Even if the Prince lies, Mycah most certainly cannot when he is asked by anyone who sees the cut on his cheek, well he might but not when they see the Prince wounded."

Arya's arms fell to the side with the sword, as did her resolve, she knew it to be true.

As much as Joffrey wanted to smirk, as much as he wanted to mock Arya about the fact that there wasn't anything that she could do, his eyes barely moved from from his injured wrist, which Elowen was holding tightly before the bite, preventing more blood to gush out.

Arya knew very well what would happen to her direwolf, as did Elowen, as did Joffrey, it was something that he was actually looking forward to asking his father to make happen as a punishment for the girl.

Without saying anything Arya walked over to the riverbank and threw Joffrey's sword into the river, causing Joffrey to call out in annoyance as the youngest of the Stark daughters ran off into the woods, away from their Guards, away from their families with her direwolf.

Despite being in pain, and not really enjoying pain as much as he liked inflicting it, Joffrey pulled his wrist away from Elowen's grip and dashed towards the riverbank, glaring at the water before cursing.

As Joffrey sat down at the riverbank, looking at the water, silently cursing the gods at how he got into that situation, Elowen looked down at her wrist, she knew that if she dared show her wounded wrist to her father, he would bring forth the harshest Winters of the North on the Prince, even if Elowen hadn't been the intended victim. But Elowen also knew that she had to have the cut sown by a Maester to prevent infection.

It takes a few moments for Elowen to get up, for her to gather her raging confusing emotions, of wanting to run after her sister and tell her that she was completely justified in standing up to the Prince, of wanting to remind her sister that she shouldn't have hit the Prince, of wanting to apologize to the Prince and plead liniency for Nymeria, of wanting to just shout all of her anger at the situation she was placed in just because she was the eldest.

A small part of Elowen wondered if it were Sansa who was betrothed to the Prince, if this event would've happened, if the growing distance between Sansa and herself would've happened. But then things like these happened, or the kiss with the Prince happened and Elowen was remined that her sister was much too innocent for such things and if they were to happen to her, Sansa would not live well after them.

As Elowen approached the riverbank slowly, Joffrey looked at his disfigured wrist with disgust, it wasn't a large disfigurement like the Hound had, but it was certainly something that would be seen by many if be wore short sleeved robes.

He knew that he had gone too far, for not being in King's Landing, he knew that he should've stopped and pulled back the growing sensation for violence and blood, but he craved it so. So much more than with the whores of King's Landing which were always at his beck and call, who had to obey him without a second thought.

It didn't surprise him when the butcher boy grew scared for his life, but it didn't excite him nearly a third as much as when the whores begged for theirs when he beat them.

Joffrey was so engrossed in his thoughts that he failed to see Elowen grab the skirts of her destroyed dress and lift them higher than a lady should in the presence of a man and before kicking off her boots and socks and walking into the river, in the direction that Arya had thrown the Prince's sword into.

It wasn't until Joffrey heard the semlance to a scream followed by a splash that he was brought out of his mind, making him raise his eyes to the river in time to see Elowen sit up, or rather attempt to sit up in the middle of the river with a strong current building.

Drenched and shivering, Elowen attempted to sit up, so that she could get up, but kept slipping on the algie covered rocks. 

Joffrey, despite also being injured, and both confused and annoyed with this situation, rushed into the water, to rescue his falling wife.

"Why are you in the water?" Joffrey questioned, his tone showing his annoyance, as did his face. He approached Elowen with surprising ease, completely unphased by the fact that his wife's dress was wet and clinging to her body. He used both hands to pick up Elowen, picking her up like a parent would pick up a child, by under their armpit and pulled her up, allowing Elowen to place her hands on Joffrey's shoulders to steady herself.

"I was," Elowen started, pushing her auburn hair out of her face and locking her deep blue eyes with Joffrey's deep green ones. "Saving your sword from the elements of the water and the fishes."

The way that Elowen stated her actions so plainly, almost as if she were talking to a child would be amusing to anyone who caught the married couple. And as much as Joffre wanted to complain, he cououldn't find the grounds to, other than the fact that her attempt to do so had her nearly drown in the river because of the slippery ground.

"I was going to grab it." Joffrey told his wife, moving his injured arm down so that his hand rested on her waist as he leaned to the side and plunged his uninjured hand into the water grabbing his sword.

"And I decided to do it as well, given I did not know if you were going to. Seeing it was my sister who threw it in here." Elowen explained, watching Joffrey move but refusing to meet his eyes when he stood back up.

Joffrey stayed quiet after Elowen's words, merely returning his sword to its sheath and aiding Elowen back to the shore carefuly, mainly to ensure that neither of them fell into the river.

It was only when Elowen stepped onto the riverbank first, that Joffrey was made aware that she was barefoot. A sight that would usually send a lad his age, with no knowledge of what happens behind closed doors between married couples or what happens in brothels, a sight that would usually make him smirk and a quip be ready at the tip of his tongue.

Elowen slowly turned around and helped the Prince back onto the riverbank, not that he needed it, before sitting on a rock near them, which allowed her to pull her soaked skirts over her knees, allowing herself more space and movement to put her socks and boots back on.

The silence between the married couple was tense, with neither of them knowing how to break it. 

Elowen knew if she begged for leniency for Nymeria and her sister, her prayers would fall on deaf ears, and Joffrey had too much pride to apologize to his wife for cutting, even if it was accidentally.

So as they sat at the riverbank, waiting for Elowen's clothes and hair to dry enough for them to return to camp, each spouse kept their eyes on their wound, their lips sealed but their throats dry. The spilled wine being something that they were in desperate need in that moment.

That was until Elowen let out a small chuckle, which in turn brought Joffrey's eyes to her just as she rose her eyes to him and said "We need only fire burning near us as our blood spills again for this to be considered a Targaryen Wedding. And then we shall be married in the eyes of two of the Four Gods that have watch over the Seven Kingdoms."