Negotiations had failed. What a fucking understatement, Elyse thought to herself ruefully as she stood chest-first against the tree with her face at an awkward angle to the side, her own knife sticking out of her mouth. One of the two men had shoved her up against the tree and stuck the knife through her mouth and cheek hole to pin her in place, and then they both stood back and started using her for target practice. The first arrow pinned the leathers of her thighs to the tree, making her jerk in surprise and almost cleave the rest of her face away before she bit down on the blade and kept her place, a trickle of blood and saliva dripping down her chin and neck. "Your friend in the pond is going to get feathered when he so much as lifts his head, you hear me you poxed whore? And maybe, if my dick can get hard enough after looking at your awful face, I'll have you before killing you and leaving your body for your Golden Company friends to find." By now she had four arrows pinning her to the tree, one between each thigh and one on either side of her neck, while blood flowed freely from her mouth where her tongue was getting ribboned with each slight jerk she couldn't control.
"Hold your braid up, wench." She listened, cautiously reaching over her shoulder and pulling up her braid, holding it to the tree beside her head. Clenching her teeth on the blade of her knife hard, she happened to look into the woods ahead and couldn't hide her confusion when she thought that she caught a glimpse of naked flesh nearby, she didn't even jump when her braid was pinned to the tree by another arrow. Luckily they had misinterpreted her lack of reaction as boredom, and soon the two men were talking in hushed, but easily hearable, tones. "Where is Wesson, anyway? Guess the man is really hiding in that puddle for all he's worth..." the other man who had yet to talk sounded more nervous "I don't know, maybe we should just leave her here and go check. We should report back, too. If they are here then the main camp can't be so far away..." Chatty, as Elyse started calling him in her head, huffed in annoyance at the other mans good sense. "Not yet." It was then that she found his body pressed flush against her back and his rancid breath in her ear whispering hungrily "You look good from this angle, wench. Bet every man in the golden company has had you, too." he groped her ass in his hands and squeezed mercilessly, chuckling at his own poor humor. Elyse was unfortunately focused intensely on clenching her knife and keeping her tongue away from it to even try responding with words, but inhaled sharply when his filthy hands crept beneath her armor and splayed across her hard stomach. "Sounds like she wants it too!" His grin, which she could not see, was obvious. With her head at its current angle she found it easy enough to stare off into the woods, searching hopefully for some renewed sign that she wasn't about to suffer an unfortunate fate. Elyse was not disappointed, and actually started to giggle maniacally as she saw Sandor almost completely naked and poised to strike with his sword free.
Jabbing his elbow into her spine with a malicious fury, Chatty whispered "What's so damn funny, bitch? Maybe you won't be laughing when I fill your arse!" Grunting in pain, she stifled herself and waited, it was not long. Whoever the other man had been, he let out a startled cry first and by the sound of it had tried very hard to knock an arrow in time before being cleaved, the wet sound of flesh being rent asunder and Sandor's furious snarl was a symphony to her ears. Chatty flung away from her as if she had been lit aflame, and she dearly wished she could have seen the look on his face as he was shredded by a nearly naked man. Heavy breathing was all that filled her ears after the brief battle, Sandors from his exertion and Elyse from being so very close to death.
He had thought she was dead, pinned up to the tree as she was, and he slew the two scouts with a fury that hadn't touched him since the bread riot when he was still the Hound. But as it faded away and he swiped his sword clean on the cloak of one of the dead fools, he started to hear her ragged breaths and took a closer look. As she caught sight of him in her peripheral vision, she started to giggle maniacally, blood dripping anew to drip from her chin and down her leather-clad shoulder. Blinking slowly, he closed the distance between himself and her in a few short strides; leaning down some to press his chest into her back while his mouth came to her ear, not missing how her breath skipped and the giggling died quickly as he murmured in his raspy voice, tone deepened by the excitement of battle "Don't tell me you're all shy now that you're not in control."
If his voice was a weapon, she would've been impaled upon it then, so sharp was the spike it sent through her stomach when he whispered into her ear. When he chuckled it was almost as bad, and she growled helplessly in response. Thankfully he didn't have any greater designs than to tease her then, and she looked at the details of his hand as it curled into a fist in front of her mouth around the hilt of the dagger. It was rough and calloused with coarse black hair on the knuckles and as he grasped the hilt she thought it might be almost the size of her blasted head, kind of chilling really. His close proximity also filled her nose with his scent, earthy, male with the sharp tang of blood that he was no doubt splashed with and the murky water that was still dripping off him, it fogged her mind and distracted her from the pain when he carefully pulled the dagger out of the treeāand her mouth. "Gods, the extra hole has always bitten me in the ass, but that was a new one." she whispered with a rasp of her own, reaching up to rub her sore jaw as Sandor withdrew and began snapping the arrows that pinned her to the tree roughly. Their blood was up and together they silently agreed that no more need be said. Elyse recovered quickly enough and was thankful to retrieve her other knife while Sandor clothed himself fully, they had to rush through the dark to report what had happened as quick as possible. Serillion's forces were moving at a faster pace than anticipated and the company needed to be warned. Before they left, Elyse was pleased to notice that Chatty had been cleaved in half, it gave her a primal thrill.
Pulling the knife from her mouth and watching a trail of bloody saliva link to her lips and drip off the edge of the blade was oddly erotic, but Sandor kept his senses about him despite the fierce urge to leave her arrowed to the tree and fuck her senseless. He wouldn't forget that blackened finger he cut off, the fear of seeing his cock blackened and needing amputation was more than enough to stamp down his arousal.
From the moment they arrived back at the camp roaring their warning about the scouts, they were both swept into a frenzy of movement that blurred into days. The Bloody Ravens were harried from the south in the night, several scouts found dead in the morning. It seemed the group that was meant to harry from the north were the ones that Sandor and Elyse dealt with. The very next day the rider sent to check on the situation at the Wendwater bridge arrived on his lathered horse, babbling about the corpses of their southern scouting group being strung up in the trees around the bridge and there being no one within sight. With the bridge being clear, Edgur called for the Ravens to move forwards once again. Their procession was much slower than normal, everyone keeping tight together and on high alert, it didn't stop them from being harried in the night. Each morning revealed a couple more dead men, their numbers being chipped away by the ghosts of the forest.
When they had finally arrived at the bridge, at least fifteen men the poorer, they beheld the strung up corpses for themselves. Elyse had decided to ditch all false pretenses during their trip and road beside Sandor on her palfrey almost exclusively, albeit silently. Now she warily crossed the bridge on foot with several other men to check for signs of camps or life in general. As Sandor watched her stride quickly back across the bridge towards them she fell down to a crawl when an arrow, launched from their side of the bridge, nearly hit her. He vaguely registered her hoarse yell of "We're under attack!" before the enemy fell upon the Ravens from all around them and he was swept into the fray, the Ravens men immediately on the defensive and fighting for their lives. The cavalry could only cut and ride down men when the battle spilled onto the road, and they were fodder to the archers in the trees. It wasn't long before he found himself on foot with Elyse and a group of men who'd gone into the enemy lines hunting for the archers.
Elyse had only her bow and arrows to contribute to their group, and used them well. Her finger had scabbed over thickly enough to forgo the wrappings on her hand and she only spent arrows to take out the archers who hid in trees while Sandor and the other four men they had teamed up with gave her cover. One of the men had failed to raise his shield in time when an archer they were pursuing managed to get an errant shot off, blood blooming from the shaft sticking out of his throat. Before he had even finished his death throes, Sandor ripped his shield out of his hands and filled the gap, using his two-hander in one hand and raising the shield in the other. By the time they had swung back towards the bulk of the battle the sounds of intense fighting were all but gone, punctuated only by small skirmishes and the wails of injured and dying alike. Sandor felt a curious sense of appreciation well inside of him at how their group had functioned despite not knowing one another, like real trained men. It was not familiar to him, having been one of only a few truly competent fighters under the Lannisters wings, and himself never being privy to the feel of comradery.
The battle was won, but even though they were ready for an attack the Bloody Ravens had been cut into deeply. Even Edgur had to fight for his life it seemed, he had no small amount of cuts and his shield looked akin to a porcupine with all the arrow shafts sticking out of it. Edgur caught sight of their group approaching and called them over as he sat sweating on a tree stump "I saw what you men were doing, good job catching the archers." All of them nodded tiredly in response. Elyse stepped into sight around Sandor as she slung her bow, her tone of voice cautious "Any sign of Serillion, or enemy survivors?" Edgurs gaze sharpened into a glare when he looked at Elyse, but he was apparently subdued by the battle and responded evenly "No word of Serillion being present, yet. There are survivors though, they will be questioned when we're finished regrouping and setting up camp."
Even as they spoke the chopping of wood had started ringing out over the calls of the injured, and defensive trenches were being dug. The Bloody Ravens were digging in at the Wendwater bridge, at last. Edgur dismissed them and returned to his blood spattered map, leaving the group to go about helping with the camp. Before they parted however, the three men he was not familiar with took it upon themselves to shake his hand and slap his arm, complimenting him and letting him know that he was appreciated. "I'll be glad to fight alongside you again, Digger!" was one of the more frequent compliments, and Sandor found himself grudgingly accepting their compliments and even returning a few of his own. They guarded him as much as he guarded them and were men of some quality, after all. It did not escape his notice that not a one of the men spared Elyse a word or even a look, and he knew full well that she played a part in their success, too. That irks me more than it should, he thought warily.
Having excused herself from the group, fostering a sour feeling in her gut that some would call envy, Elyse took it upon herself to begin sharpening stakes for the trenches from some of the smaller trees and branches that had been felled already. Sandors presence soon filled up a space beside her, the sound of his knife steadily prying away at wood joining her more frantic, furious pace. Elyse was the first to break the peaceful rhythm they had established, and Sandor watched her brow furrowing deeply as she glared at the fresh branch she was to carve up, "They are right of course, you did excellent. I should be thanking you too." she chuckled ruefully, to which he snorted. "Crawl right up on my hands and knees and plant my lips on your arse cheeks, just like them." He barked a laugh at that, and so did she.
"I knew someone once who'd tell you that being congratulated for killing gnats means nothing." He smirked, and her dark eyes glancing at him caught the gesture. "Wasn't some tall grim fucker was he?" "Aye, he was." she snorted and grinned, looking truly tired in that moment "Well, if I met him, I'd have to tell him I agree and that being congratulated for doing your job right is no congratulation at all." "He would agree." Sandor chuckled and tucked into the work. It was when they were spiking the trenches together when he decided to kick up the conversation again. "You know, I don't put stock in woman warriors." She shot him a confused look while tugging on a stake to check its sturdiness "Follow me around for some other reason, then?"
Ignoring her response, he continued as he shoveled a hole into the damp soil "Women are always smaller, have to use smaller weapons and are easy to cut down with the natural extra range of arm and sword." he paused then, looking at her seriously "but worse yet, if you're injured and paired with some woman, she won't be able to pull or carry you to safety because women lack the strength of arm for such tasks." Silence fell between them, and people who happened to be nearby had started to move away in anticipation of a conflict.
Elyse had paused, hand coiled loosely around the stake she had just planted, licking her lips thoughtfully. Her tone was measured and voice oddly calm, "Aye. You're right, on all accounts even." her eyes snapped to him then, grip tightening on the stake. "But any woman who can conquer those odds and thrive is a better fighter than most men, and I would surely love to see anyone pick you up when you're dead weight, Digger. What are you, 25 stone with that armor on?" Her lips curled into a sly grin then "Best of all, if a woman is injured and paired with a man, at least the man won't have to tax himself to get her out of harms way."
Elyse resumed burying stakes while he continued to shovel new holes for them, the tension of the moment melting away as he responded in what she felt was a pleased tone. "You know, I gave that argument to some she-bear from the north once. She tried to skewer me with her sword instead of actually use her pretty head and give a good argument, she lost." Elyse laughed, grimacing slightly as a fine-cut to her jaw that had been healing popped open "Foolish wench!" They both left it unsaid that they had never been paired with anyone who would give enough of a shit to carry them if they had fallen.
