Everything was still as she rested on her side with her eyes shut. Myrna was aware that she was dreaming, yet the touch from the person behind her felt incredibly real. What she wanted was to never disturb the comfort she felt at that moment, but nothing so gentle ever lasted for her. Myrna trembled as she felt like she was sinking and the comforting presence soon vanished and was replaced with a malicious one. Smoke and flames suffocated her. A man cried out, but the sound came from every direction and surrounded her. Beads of sweat dripped down her face and she found herself cowering in a corner of a burning room. There was nowhere to run. When she opened her mouth to scream nothing would come out. Her muscles would not listen to her. Myrna was frozen like a trapped animal and she squeezed her eyes shut. It'll be over... she told herself. It'll be over...
Then she opened her eyes and she was on her bed that she had fallen asleep on, but... the smoke was still there. Her pillow was damp from her sweat and her vision was impaired by a heavy mist of gray smoke swirling through the room. Screams came from down the hall, but they were different screams from the ones she heard in her dream. The door was blocked by giant orange flames dancing as it entered her room, nearing her inch by inch. That was when she let out a piercing scream herself, finally finding her voice. Myrna flew off the edge of the bed and banged her head against the wooden floor. Crying out, she rubbed her head and attempted to stand up but too much smoke filled her lungs. Myrna hacked and hacked, going back down to the floor and surveyed the room. Her heart pounded and she panicked. This was the last thing she wanted to relive. Trembling, she covered her nose and mouth to try to stop from breathing in more smoke and saw her only way out was the window she looked out of earlier.
She struggled as she crawled to the window with one hand, and when she was underneath it she sat up on her knees and peered out. Panic stricken people were running around. Some were running away and some stayed and cried out at the burning inn. With shaking hands Myrna searched for the lock along the chipped windowframe and found it at the very top of the window which she had to stand for. Coughing, Myrna stood straight up and pulled on the lock. Right afterwards she smacked the wooden frame repeatedly with an open palm.
"Please open!" Myrna cried out, and had to stop trying to open the window so she could kneel back down and catch her breath. Her cough was so hard it felt like her belly was about to go up her throat.
Once again she stood up and now punched the window with a fist and on her third punch the window flew open. Myrna wanted to cry from relief. Smoke flew out the window and into the air outside. She leaned out to see how far the drop was. It was far, and there was a good chance of breaking a bone but she did not care. Myrna knew it would be better than experiencing another burn. She sat down on the edge while swinging her legs over and was about to drop off until she realized she was missing something.
"My dagger..." she realized, patting herself.
She looked back into the room with her nose buried into her arm. It was resting on the nightstand next to the bed she was sleeping on two minutes ago. The bed was now completely engulfed by the flames and was an inch away from the nightstand. Myrna swung her legs back into the room and sprinted towards the nightstand, crying out in desperation. The nightstand caught fire with her dagger on it. When she was in front of it she did not know what to do. She pulled back her hair and looked around to see if there was anything to could push the dagger off the nightstand with but there was nothing. Myrna had no choice.
Myrna pulled her hand into her sleeve and braced herself. Holding her breath, she took her hand that was bundled in her sleeve and quickly picked up the dagger and dropped it on the ground as her sleeve caught fire. Myrna yowled and cried, swinging her arm around to try to extinguish the small flame. She had no choice but to take off her tunic. With one hand she struggled to remove her tunic, but she managed and threw it away from her. Myrna held her hand while sobbing and made herself stomp on the burning sleeve, but she had taken in so much smoke she had another fit and fell to the ground. Her face was wet and her hair was beginning to stick to her face as she grabbed her tunic and her dagger that rested next to her. Inside she felt like she was burning like the flames around her. Her muscles, her lungs, her eyes, they all felt they had been burning too. The flame crept up closer and she forced herself with every fiber of strength left to crawl back to the window.
Once again she threw her legs out and sat on the edge while coughing the entire time. The outside air was pleasantly cool which gave her goosebumps all over her exposed pale skin. It did not even occur to Myrna that anyone who stood below her saw her half nude. When she peered down she felt more anxiety bundle up within her. Myrna let go of her dagger and tunic, watching them fall all the way down to the dirt below. She adjusted herself and slid off the edge inch by inch. If only her hand had not been damaged, then she could have hung from the window and then let go to lessen the damage. Myrna held her breath and closed her eyes then pushed herself off with her heels. Her dark, damp curls flew above her and she felt the impact of the ground quicker than she thought. It felt like something had slapped her whole body at once. Am I okay? Am I dead? Questions ran through her mind as she felt like she was waking up from another dream.
Opening her eyes, she saw a lady slowly make her way towards Myrna, picking up her stained kitchen dress. It was the one who had served them bread and ale earlier. Myrna tried to move, but she could not. She was thankful for landing on her back so at least no one could see the scars she received from her other similar experience. This was no dream, she knew now. The pain was real. Then she realized she was alone and her heart sunk. "Sandor... Brenda... Arya... where...?" she asked between breathes as she somehow managed to pushed herself up with her good hand while grunting. Had she left them behind without realizing? The elderly lady knelt down while sobbing when she finally reached Myrna and gathered her tunic. Myrna felt the tunic go over her head and she allowed the lady to help her dress.
"Oh, thank the Gods someone up there made it..." she wailed and sobbed more.
"Where are the others?" Myrna found more strength to put in her voice. She was breathing heavy and trembling. They were fine, right? They had to be.
The lady shook her head. "Oh, what am I going to do..." she struggled to stand again but her old knees were too weak. She put her face in her hands and her wails became louder.
"I'm... I'm going to go find help," Myrna put a hand on the lady's shoulder and found her feet shakily. When she put weight on her right foot she winced. Damn... it hurts so bad. She felt something trickle down her chin so she wiped it off with the back of her wrist and saw blood smeared on her skin. Inside her cheek hurt, and she spat out more blood. After giving herself some time to see how she was after the fall Myrna searched the dirt for her dagger and saw it lying a few feet away. She went to pick it up slowly and grimaced at it when she held it in her good hand. The inscribed tree was in the middle of her reflection. Her eyes were red from the smoke, and her chin matched as blood was smeared all over.
First she had speak with more people to see what really happened. She began walking around the inn at a slow pace to see what was happening in front, and the wails from the old lady were not so loud anymore. Myrna limped as she kept her distance from the burning inn and walked around the corner to see a few more people loitering. None of them were her companions.
Nearby was a stocky man who stood there squinting at the inn. When he noticed her closing in on him he looked at her in awe. "Seven hells! Were ye in there!?" he shouted.
Nodding, she asked a question. "Did anyone else make it out?" she hoped.
"I saw the smoke while coming down the road and went to see what happened. I wasn't ever in there," he eyed her hand. "Do ye need help bandaging that?"
Myrna was becoming frightened. Had they not made it out? Were they still in there? She gave no answer to his question and spaced out. Her dream haunted her again. The blackened, blistered bodies were lying inside her burning manor. Voices cried out in her head, familiar voices she had grown up with. They were people she could have saved if only she had been on time. "I need to go back in there..." she whimpered.
"Ain't no way I'm letting ye back in that fire pit!" the man hollered at her when she started limping towards the flaming front door. He pulled her shoulder but she pulled back harder and escaped his grip. The man came at her again and forced her down, and she kicked and screamed and shouted. The other people who were around stared at her. In her mind she was a strong young woman, but truly she wasn't. Every time she lost someone she became weaker. In such a short amount of time she had depended on The Hound to stay there by her and now suddenly he was gone along with Brenda and Arya. There was no point anymore. Her muscles relaxed and now she lied on the grass sniffling. The man ran his fingers through her curls and told her it would be alright, but it would not.
The man gasped and Myrna heard him being lifted off the ground and thrown away. Before she could even turn to look at what happened arms wrapped around her, a feeling she had recently experienced overwhelmed her for a second, and helped her sit up. Dirty, calloused fingers grabbed her chin tightly to make her look up at his face.
"You're... you're alright..." The Hound's voice rasped. He seemed to be talking more to himself than her.
Myrna felt herself smile weakly. "You're alive," she said back to him.
Sweat dripped off his forehead and he almost seemed afraid to look up. The inn was making a noise that sounded like huge tree branches cracking and soon it Myrna knew it would collapse from the flames eating away at what held it up. Before she knew it she was up in the air in his arms and the heat from the inn drew farther away as he marched towards the road hastily. The man that had been thrown away crawled backwards in fear when he saw The Hound walk past him. She saw The Hound make a threatening glance at the man for a few seconds. Jealous like a dog, she looked down at her injured hand and let her hair cover her face so he would not see her small grin.
Arya and Brenda were next to Spiceflower and Stranger. Everyone looked like they had just came back from a trip. Myrna wondered where they went and felt out of place for thinking about them just leaving her alone without a word. Why would they leave her all by herself? Brenda came up to them first, with tears welling in her sad brown eyes. "Oh, look at you..." she reached for Myrna's burned hand and Myrna pulled it away. She remembered what had happened between the two of them in the morning and still felt troubled by it. The Hound put her down gently on her feet, but held onto her shoulder when he saw she could only stand on one foot.
"This is nothing," she said awkwardly, knowing she must look horrible. "Where did you guys go? Why did you just leave me!?" Myrna found herself becoming angry at them.
"Someone took Spiceflower," Brenda informed her while fixing Myrna's hair and taking note of the damage on her clothing and the blood smeared on her face. "I asked The Hound and Arya to come with. But we just found her abandoned down the road and when we started our way back..."
Arya stepped in. "This is no coincidence. Someone wanted Myrna dead," her glassy blue eyes looked at her with no emotion.
"The Brotherhood-" The Hound began to accuse with his grip tightening on her shoulder.
Brenda cut him off. "No. They were going the opposite direction and they had no intention of bothering you again. They want your brother more than anyone else and it's the Lannister party they have their eyes on," she explained.
All of them quieted down as they tried to think of anyone else that could be to blame.
"It may be a coincidence..." Myrna began. "...but on my way to the room this morning I heard a fight going on in a room. Perhaps they knocked over a candle or something?"
The Hound shook his head, sweat still covered his forehead and made his burn glisten red. "Why would there be a candle lit during the day? And her damn horse was let loose on purpose, the rope was cut through..." he rasped. "They know you're traveling with me. Honestly, it's me they want. There is probably coin on my head for telling the king to fuck off," he scoffed.
"You say that as if you're proud people want to kill you," Arya sounded disgusted.
The Hound glared at her. "I never saw you tell the king to fuck off," he barked at her.
"I held a sword to his throat! I never even seen you do anything close to that to Joffrey!" she replied quickly.
He took a couple steps toward Arya in a threatening way leaving Myrna alone but Myrna hopped towards him to stop them from fighting. With her good hand she pushed him back. "Enough," she commanded and turned around to face Arya as well. "Both of you!"
Brenda grabbed Arya, who now sulked, by the shoulder and led her to Spiceflower. "We camp after we find the Red Fork. If there is someone after one of us we need to keep moving and try to lose them," and soon they were mounted and departed from the burning inn.
Myrna grabbed The Hound around his waist with her good hand and held the other slightly above her lap so it would not touch anything. Her hand was not as bad as she thought. Some skin was peeling and blistered, but nothing too deep. It would heal within a few weeks if properly taken care of. However, her foot bothered her if she would allow it to swing while riding on Stranger. When she looked back she saw the smoke was thick and tall, reaching the clouds up in the sky. It was no wonder it attracted a few people who happened to be strolling by. Like anything, though, it grew smaller as they slowly made their way down the dirt road.
Myrna felt she had somehow made up with The Hound. Once again she was mounted on Stranger with him just as they were used to traveling. Still, she found herself trying to find the right words to say to him. When she looked at his face she saw dark circles under his eyes. It had been a long time since he slept, she realized. The Hound noticed.
"A pretty view for you," he commented.
Myrna disregarded that. "You're tired," she told him. Her eyes would occasionally wander off to the scars he wore on his face. It was not something she could help, nor anyone. Though it was a face she saw every day since they left the capital and for her it was becoming normal. True, it was not pleasing but she did not shy away from it either. Myrna wondered what he honestly thought about her back when she revealed it to him.
"I'm fine..." he stared down the road above her and with small glances back down at her saw she was still looking up at him. "Does my face fascinate you so much?"
She blinked and looked away. "I didn't realize..." she began mumbling. "I'm sorry," she apologized but it was much deeper than The Hound knew.
"What are you sorry for?" he asked in a mocking tone.
"Everything," Myrna said softly.
He was quiet. Stranger made soft grunting noises as he trotted behind Spiceflower. "You take your apology back and keep quiet. I'm at least half at fault for everything that has happened. I never should have left you alone at that inn. That was my damn, bloody fault and now you're wounded 'cause of it..." his usual gruff voice became slightly softer. Myrna began to understand that when he didn't want other people to hear something he told Myrna he would change his voice to that rough whisper.
"It's nothing new," she remarked as she peered down at the burned flesh on her hand.
The Hound also looked at her hand. "It could have been worse. Be glad that's all that happened..." he let go of one of the reins and reached behind his back to retrieve a sack he kept near him. Myrna watched as he searched in there to find something, and saw him pull out a handkerchief. He began wiping away the blood on her face and she blinked with surprise but did not move. The look in his eyes made her feel uneasy, as if he were experiencing nostalgia and she was not really there in front of him but perhaps someone else. Despite that, Myrna felt her stomach flutter.
"Thank you..." she politely said as he put away the handkerchief silently. "I... didn't mean what I said earlier," Myrna couldn't help but blurt out. The Hound nodded solemnly, and that was that.
Secretly she hoped that he would apologize for what he said back at the inn but he never did. The Hound was a brutally honest man, and Sansa was prettier than Myrna with her perfect fair skin and wavy red hair and brilliant green eyes that allured anyone speaking with her. It hurt, but she accepted that. Perhaps she was overthinking everything. Maybe it was just some offhand words from built up anger and he does not even remember saying anything.
The outskirts of Riverrun greeted them. The first village they saw was about a mile away. Soon they would run into the Red Fork, and finally the four of them could find a spot to rest. "Do you think Riverrun has a maester that can see me?" Myrna asked The Hound.
"Someone ought to have something for your hand," he replied.
Spiceflower slowed down and Myrna came face to face with Brenda and Arya, though she was slightly higher up than them. "I'm going to have to leave Arya with you two for now. I can get some ointment for your hand and some more supplies. Once you reach the water make camp, I'll find you..." Brenda hollered as she made Spiceflower come to a stop and The Hound pulled hard on Stranger's rein's to make him stop as well.
"Why can't we come with?" Myrna asked as she watched Arya jump off Spiceflower and pout as she made her way towards Stranger.
Brenda kicked Spiceflower on the side and she smiled at them. "I have a friend in these parts but he's shy. You want to watch me work?" she chuckled as she kicked Spiceflower again and flew down the dirt road and made her way towards the village.
"She's strange," Arya commented as she stood there watching Brenda grow smaller.
The Hound sighed heavily. "Come on, we don't have all day," he grunted as he leaned over to reach down at the young girl, the leather on his armor scrunching. Arya wrinkled her nose but she grabbed onto his hand despite the hatred she had for the man. The Hound threw Arya onto Myrna's lap unexpectedly, making her yelp from her pained knee, and Myrna wrapped the arm with her good hand around the girl's waist. Before Stranger began trotting again The Hound was hugging Myrna more tightly now that she could not hang on to him. She could feel herself blushing and hoped the girl wouldn't turn around to face her anytime soon.
They passed up the village that Brenda entered moments ago and kept moving northwest. Myrna strained her eyes and kept her eyes peeled for any water ahead. They all needed rest, and now with Arya on her lap she was becoming irritated. Stranger moved slower now, so they would not reach the Red Fork as soon as they would have earlier. Myrna felt bad for the horse despite its ill nature.
"Is there anyone who hates you, Myrna?" Arya asked suddenly.
Myrna opened her mouth to answer but she had none. "Well... why do you ask?"
"Someone wanted you to burn in there. They purposely lead us away and set that inn on fire with you inside. Are you sure there is no one after you?" the young girl elaborated.
"Most people I know are dead," Myrna explained.
Arya was quiet for only a minute before continuing. "The Mountain is mad at your brother, or at least that's what Beric said. Maybe it's him?"
The Hound cackled bitterly. "My brother would rather kill all of us than just one. He would not have bothered to draw us away from Myrna. Besides, he would have done the killing himself instead of letting some house fire do it..."
A sudden realization made Myrna hold her breath. Perhaps there was someone after her, but she could not find it in herself to believe it. Over the years she had assumed him dead. The last time she had seen him was when The Mountain had knighted him and helped ruin their lives. If he were somehow alive... why would he show up now after all these years? Why did he try to kill her back there?
"We need to be careful from now on," Myrna said sternly.
Arya watched Myrna with curious eyes. "Did you think of something?"
Myrna swallowed. "I'm not the only one with an angry brother..."
