Clark reached the Twins four days later.
He had considered continuing onto the Kingsroad, forgetting Lord Reed and bypassing the weasley motherfuckers who owned the bridge.
Howland Reed may not even know about his predicament.
He spent an hour deliberating before finally choosing the Green Fork.
He knew that delaying his arrival in Winterfell was dumb in some regards.
If Ned Stark believed him, he could use every second of time to prepare the North.
On the other hand, it was only a few months out of his way and he felt that he had to see Howland Reed.
Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to pass by the Twins and piss on it.
He spent the early morning observing the two towers from the river.
Sitting on the riverbank, he let his bare feet cool in the running water.
He was also doing his best to shave with the straight razor.
He mostly did a competent job but it was still the hardest part of his medieval morning beauty routine.
An electric razor had spoiled him quite a bit.
The idea of his beauty made him snort.
He didn’t think himself too gullible when it came to flattery, but Kerry, Sara and the drunken soldier all calling him pretty gave him some thought.
He looked back over his near two weeks in this world and he had received a few looks.
He dismissed them, thinking he just gave out a strange modern energy.
However, he did notice a few other looks that just lingered unfamiliarly.
From other tavern girls and farmer women, from whom he’d ask for a cup of water.
Just a few stares though.
Nothing ridiculous.
He wondered whether the fact that he had showered daily throughout his whole life figured into this reaction.
He wasn’t bad looking in his previous life but he didn’t turn heads.
Maybe just looking healthy was enough in this world.
Clear skin and steady protein.
With that he put away the razor, stood up and dressed, looking onward toward the Twins.
Speaking of looking health and beauty, he wondered if the Freys would be as ugly as they were in the show and the books.
He found out shortly that the answer was yes.
At least the three guards at the gate were.
Clark took the same steeling breath he took before approaching anyone in this world and walked up.
“Hold it!” said the left guard.
He picked up his spear and stepped forward.
The other two remained sitting, their mugs before them.
The guard stopped in front of Clark, thankfully not too close, looking him up and down.
“What business have you?” Clark shifted his pack.
“Traveler.
Heard there was a bridge here.” The guard’s eyes narrowed.
“Aye, there’s a bridge.
Why you wanna cross it?” “To get to the other side.” A tense silence fell.
The other guards looked up, their attention on the newcomer.
Clark winced internally.
Perhaps this wasn’t the best time to be a smart ass.
The guard smiled.
Clark swore he could smell his breath from where he was standing.
“There’s a fee for this bridge, you know.
Crossing don’t come free.” Clark gave a polite smile.
More to cover how much he wanted to punch this asshole.
“How much is the fee?” “Three stags.” Clark looked to the other two.
They were smiling too.
“One for each of you, I presume?” he asked, bringing his eyes back to the guard.
“Does Lord Walder know you’re overcharging the bridge fee?
Skimming off the extras?” That was a guess and judging by the look of anger on the guard’s face, it was a correct one.
He didn’t raise his voice though.
His tone just became more slimy.
“You watch yourself, pretty lad.
Ain’t none of your business where the fee goes.
Only thing you gotta worry about is paying.
Now, you gonna give us six stags?
Or you gonna fuck off?” Okay, one more gross angry man thinks I’m pretty.
Maybe I should accept it and be the gorgeous stranger, riding shirtless to Winterfell, showing off the glorious back hair for all to see.
He stopped himself from diving too much into that nonsense.
The guard was still waiting for his answer.
“Double the fee?
What for?” “For being a smart cunt.
Smart cunts pay double and you’re lucky that’s all I charge.
Now either pay or fuck off.” Clark kept his voice as light as he could.
“I don’t have six or three silver stags.” The guard shrugged.
“Well, then I guess you fuck off.” If Clark was being honest, this wasn’t the worst case scenario.
He wouldn’t give any coin to House Frey and he could swim across, out of sight of the Twins.
However the guard’s smugness made him stay a few extra seconds.
He wanted to get the last word in, somehow get across.
However he knew that in this world, sometimes he was just going to have eat shit to live another day.
That was until he heard a horn blast behind him.
Turning round, he saw a host coming toward them.
And by host, he meant a mangy collection of a dozen soldiers following a man on a horse.
The man was a sickly looking individual, but he still rode a horse decently.
The man next to him carried a banner.
A banner with the Twins on it… Clark turned to the guard, who was watching the host approach.
They were about five hundred yards off, coming up the river bank.
“I’m guessing that’s a Frey coming now?
One of Walder’s brood?” “Piss off!” said the guard, his smile replaced by a snarl.
“You know, I should.
It’s a lovely stroll down to the river.
Think I’ll walk down and meet Walder’s son.” He kept an eye on the guards and didn’t turn though.
“I heard things about this family.
Lots of sons wandering through.
None of them too special.
Each wanting the lordship when Walder croaks.
Is that man approaching us a son desperate for his father’s approval?” The other guards came forth.
Their backup didn’t stop the other guard from paling.
“I think the man approaching would be delighted to inform his lord father of the riches from the crossing fees.
Six silver stags for one poor bastard.
Imagine what he could have in his coffers by now.
If only it wasn’t stolen by sneaky tolltakers.” The host was four hundred yards away now.
The guard turned to him, his face red with anger.
“I could kill you before you say one word.” Clark held his gaze.
“You can try.
You’d make a mess.
Or you could just let me through.
With the extra money you’ve collected for yourselves, I’m sure you can cover pretty little me.” The pounding of hooves came closer and closer.
The sound carried over the river…
Now Clark threw caution to the wind.
“If you don’t let me through with no charge in the next ten seconds, I start for the approaching lord and I tell him everything.
I want to cross before him.
I don’t trust you to let me enter after he disappears behind the walls.” The guard’s eyes went back and forth between Clark and the approaching company, alternating between anger and fear.
Clark hitched his rucksack.
“I’m walking in five, four, three…” “All right!
All right!
Gods damn you, all right!” The guard stood breathing.
It seemed to take all his self-control not to hit the stranger before him.
Clark let him breathe, but only for a couple of seconds.
“The gate?” The guard turned to the man behind him on his right.
“Tubs!
Open the fucking door!” Tubs hesitated.
“Just go!” With that, Tubs ran to the side of the gate, leaving his spear behind, and opening a small door.
They obviously didn’t open the big gate for single travelers.
“Come on,” said the main guard.
He made to walk with Clark, but Clark stepped back.
“I think you should keep a safe distance,” he said.
The guard glared, but stayed put.
Clark walked to the door, where Tubs was waiting, careful to keep an eye on the other two, with their hands on their spears.
He reached the door.
“It’d be nice if he’d escort me across,” he called, nodding to Tubs.
“Make sure I’m let through the other side.” Tubs look to the leader, who nodded.
Tubs gave a Clark a wide-eyed look before stepping through.
Clark was about to follow when he heard the leader speak.
“If I see you again, here or anywhere else, I’ll kill you on sight.
I won’t forget your face.” His eyes were serious.
…
In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait.