The beans bubbled in their juice as she stirred them with a wooden spoon; their aroma filling the air of the small kitchenette. Behind her she heard the bread pop out of the toaster. She clicked the burner off, reaching for the plates and serving the beans equally.
Her hands were still shaky.
Most of the first night following the shooting had been in tears: her pillow soaked to the core, and her arms tightly hugging herself as she playing images, and memories in her head. The following morning she'd noticed the slight shaking in her hands, which worsened whenever the boy gave her a hard time.
She grabbed the toast from the toaster, trying to will herself to still the shaking, and brought the plates to the table, where Rickon sat with the same blank expression he'd worn since she brought him to this house, ten days ago, and explained things to him as well as she could without giving away too much.
"Please try and eat," she begged him nervously, placing the plate of steaming beans in front of him, and two pieces of toast beside his glass of water.
She hadn't mentioned anything regarding his parents, of course, when she'd explained their situation to him. She couldn't bring herself to. That was something he had to hear from family, when and if he ever re-united with them. The way the situation had been going this past week, she doubted any of the Starks would make it out alive. Two dead, four missing, present company included, and one living with the Lannisters... all odds were against them. She still prayed for them. Every night. That's all she could do, really. Pray for them, and try and keep Rickon safe. That's all that mattered now. Nothing more. Not the memories of a real past, and the woven lies that made up the new memories.
At nights, when she was sure the boy was asleep, she'd slip out of the small house and into her truck to listen to the radio for news. Updates. Anything.
The house didn't have a radio, computer, or a television, and she'd tossed her mobile away as soon as she'd made it out of the Hall, so she was completely disconnected from everything, the small stereo on her truck the only link to the world.
It was better this way. For Rickon especially. He was curious, and would eventually find out about his family if he had the means to.
He was being as difficult as any kidnapped boy his age should. Barely eating. Rarely speaking. He had failed at running away twice already... but he seemed to believe her story and motives well enough, although he didn't really agree with them.
"Beans are good for you," she said over her shoulder, pulling the chair across from him to sit. "They'll help you grow, and trust me, you need all the growin' you can take."
Rickon looked up at her through his lashes, clearly not amused. He looked so dignified, it almost made her laugh.
His eyes fell on his plate and his lips twitched at the corners, but he didn't make a move to grab his spoon or reach for his toast. He just sat still, staring at the plate and the thick steam that rose from it.
Osha sighed weakly."You're going to get sick if you don't eat." she said rustily.
He just continued to stare at his plate.
She cleared her throat, hoping the lump in it would go away. It didn't.
It had been there, just like the shakiness, since the night at Cutler's Hall.
It happened in a flash. She had been staring at Rickon, who had been with one of his sisters. Arya. She had snatched one of his little cakes off his plate, and popped it in her mouth with a mocking smirk. They had a small exchange of words before she'd stuck her tongue out at him and walked away.
At that moment, Osha had stressed her mind as far as it allowed her to try and find a childhood memory of her and Jaqen. It made her panic a bit, but she kept on searching, until she felt something burst inside of her.
She would have broken down in tears at that second if one of the waiters hadn't pulled her into the kitchen by the arm and placed a tray of small cakes and desert shots on her hands.
The rest of that night was a jumble of memories. Terrible memories. Memories of her, and Jaqen. Memories a girl shouldn't have. At least not with her brother. It was like a choppy, badly edited video, filmed with a shaky camera. And it was playing in her mind. All night.
She had been so disoriented that she had almost missed the shooting, and when it finally happened, all she could think about was saving the little boy she'd met, who had been standing feet away from her.
"If you eat, I'll let you teach me chess. Yeah?" she asked Rickon in her raspy voice. His eyes snapped up to her at that.
"What?" he asked in a small voice.
"I've noticed you eyeing my set over by the bureau," she glanced over at the small chest of drawers near the bed, and back at Rickon. "Do you play?"
Rickon brought up his hands slowly from under the table, sliding one over to grab his spoon. "Uh. No. My brother Bran does. He was teaching me. But I don't remember a lot." He dipped his spoon into the beans, bringing it up to his mouth so he could nibble a few off the edge of the spoon.
Osha smiled at him, spooning some beans on her toast and taking a bite. "My broth..." she stopped herself before she could finish her sentence. He was not her brother! "A man I knew... he taught me. I could teach you."
Rickon chewed slowly, nodding once. "Alright."
Osha smiled back, but if felt too stiff, and ready to crack at the corner if she dared hold it for too long. She hated thinking about him. It Always put her in the edgiest of moods.
She hated him. Hated him with every cell in her being.
Because of him, she would spend who knew how long with two different lives in her head. Two different memories. The careful lies he fabricated to reel her in, and keep her by his side; and the sick, disgusting reality. She would live always telling herself that some of those memories were never memories at all, even when she still clung on to them because of how real they had felt when he had offered them up.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked in his heavy, rich accent.
"No," Osha said in a nervous, lost voice. "I can't think of anything I do know."
He'd reached for her hand then. And the contact felt right. Almost as if her body and skin remembered what her mind didn't.
"I am your brother. Jaqen. You've been in an accident. The doctors said you're fine, but that you've suffered memory loss.
"What?" she shook her head, feeling the tears at the edges of her eyes. His hand squeezed her in a warm, comforting way.
"Don't worry," he whispered softly. "I will help you, remember everything. The whole truth."
But there was only one truth. She was Osha. Osha the homeless girl. Jaqen's once lover. Osha the wild girl. "Wild one," was his nickname for her. When she had been his lover, and not the classed up sister he had turned her into. Never her. Not after she had cracked and let reality spill in.
She looked up and noticed Rickon's plate was almost empty.
"That's a deal then," she told him, glad he was eating now, talking to her. It would help her to have someone to talk to. To distract her.
She would miss him.
There was no way she could escape going to prison for kidnapping this kid, and for everything she'd done for Jaqen, which she would confess to. So she knew that much about her future, and she didn't want to change it.
All she cared about, was keeping this boy safe, and hidden until all the Lannister, Baratheon, and Stark bullshit came to a proper end.
He was all that mattered now.
xxxxxxxxxx
"Yes?"
"It's me."
"I know."
"Something came up. I have to be somewhere right now. Meet someone."
"Who?"
"Gendry. Or so he claims to be."
"Gendry? Robert's Gendry?"
"Yes!"
"And why are you meeting him? Where?"
"Outside of Sheffield. He called from Jaime's phone. He said he found the phone. Told me who he was. Said he wants to see me. He wants to talk about Robert. He said he wants no part in the will. He asked me to go alone. He said he'll know if I don't."
"And you're doing it?"
"Yes."
"This is so unlike you. I can't believe you believe this person. It's some idiot, and you're behaving like an idiot for even considering going through with..."
"I DIDN'T CALL YOU FOR YOUR OPINION! I just wanted someone else to know where I would be. In case..."
"Things go wrong," he finished her sentence with a scoff.
"I'm just being safe. Ever since Jaime went missing, I feel as though I'm standing on quicksand. I can't sleep. I can't think. I can't eat."
"You're losing your cool, Cersei."
There was no reply. Just a long, frustrated sigh coming from the other end of the line.
"Don't go. Not like this. If this person is who he says he is, he'll contact you again, and this time you can call the shots."
"I don't know if there will be another time."
"There will if they are as interested in talking to you as they sound. And when they do, you'll know you have something one them. Right now though, with you like this... I don't trust it. I don't trust you."
"Oh shut up, Petyr. I can handle myself. The boy sounded nervous. He was telling the truth. I'm not an idiot I know when I'm being lied to. Besides, I may not have another chance. This was exactly what Jaime and I had been planning all along. To trick the boy into meeting us, thinking it would be Renly. There was an unplanned change in the events that lead to this, but I finally came around to him. This could finally be over tonight. He will be alone. So will I. No one will ever know it was me. . . No more Gendry."
Petyr felt the smile spread across his face at her manic enthusiasm. "I must say, I'm amazed. Perhaps I underestimated you."
"I will call you," she told him, sounding a bit more relaxed.
"The best of luck to you, then. Since it seems I can't talk you out of your flawless plan." Petyr said before placing the phone on the receiver.
"Petyr?" Robb called him from another room. There was a bit of anxiety in his voice.
"Coming," Petyr called, walking around his desk and towards the door of his study.
"Come and see this. Quick!"
"Coming. Coming!"
Robb was standing infront of the television, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes wide and glazed. "He woke up." he said in a small voice.
On the television, a man with salt and pepper hair stood in front of Weston Park Hospital, reporting something about some miracle in an overly dramatic tone. What made Petyr's stomach jump, was what he read on the news ribbon that scrolled across the bottom of the screen. It can't be!
"Robert woke up!" Robb yelled, laughing hysterically and turning to hug Petyr, who stood several inches shorter than him. "Do you know what this means!?" Robb cried out as he lifted the short man off the floor and tightened his arms around him.
Yes. I know exactly what this means. It means the whole game just changed, and it's time I change my allegiances.
"It means." Petyr began to say, a bit breathless. Robb caught on and placed the man down on his feet.
Petyr smoothed the wrinkles on his grey sweater and swallowed down the dryness in his throat. "It means. We need to talk, Robb."
xxxxxxxxxx
The shade of green of the dress looks splendid against her skin. He had always considered her beautiful. He knew that now. Even in her hoodie, and torn jeans. Even with short hair and boy clothes.
He remembered the first time he had looked at her... really looked at her. She was in her new haircut and baggy clothes. They were on the tram on their way to the Sheffield station the morning after all hell had broken loose.
Damn.. that seems like it was ages ago.
She had been staring out the window; the air outside had been misty, and it had looked as though it might snow. Her face had been especially expressive. No guard up. No walls. She had looked beautiful, even neck deep in grief and misery. He wasn't as angry at himself as he had been back then, and so, he could admit that now.
Dressed in Tom's dress, though, she'd become breathtaking and he'd found he couldn't look away.
"You look different," he began to tease her... and before he knew it, he was calling her a nice oak tree... and smelling her hair.
Anguy's hair product mixed with the shampoo in their hotel with just a bit of Arya left . That what she had smelled like that night.
Smelling her had pissed her off. She had whirled around to slam both open palms against his chest, but ended up losing balance, her hand slipping across his body, and her face slamming against his chest, bringing a grunt from her.
He'd caught her by the arm before she could hit the floor, and when he did, something warm crawled though his entire body.
From the way her eyes widened and her brows twitched, he could have bet she had felt it too.
"Are you thinking about your father?" Brienne's voice came from somewhere in the car.
Gendry blinked a few times, ripping himself from his thoughts.
They were both sitting in the front seat of the car they had stolen, hid under the shade of a large building, waiting for Sandor.
Up until now, the only noise in the car came from the sleeping Jaime, who occasionally grunted and moaned in his sleep.
Gendry had been too absorbed in his thoughts, his eyes fixed on the empty, dim lit street before them, that when Brienne spoke, he'd clenched the handle of the gun in his hand.
"If you want to talk, you know I'm here for you."
He loosened his grip on the gun, turning it idly under the dim street light that came through the window. "I'm..." he began, but his voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat. "Fine," he finished his sentence. "I'm fine."
He knew she knew it was a lie. The last thing he needed right now was to talk about... anything. Even if he had promised her answers. Even if he should talk about it... it still felt unsafe to talk. He was home now, but it felt just as unsafe as France, and Spain.
This was home, but it was a different home. And he wasn't ready to spill everything out because spilling one thing out would drag the rest along with it. And that would be too overwhelming.
No. He wouldn't talk about it. Not today. When he turned to face her, she had this almost sad, sceptical look on her face, a mixture between disappointment and slight betrayal.
"I'm fine. Promise. I wasn't thinking about Robert. I was thinking about, Arya," he chuckled mirthlessly at the memory. "Arya in a green dress . . . She hated that dress."
"Oh," Brienne shifted her weight on the seat beside him, "You... developed ... feelings for her?"
Gendry blinked hard at her words, almost as if they had stung him. He sighed. "Something like that," he let out a bit tensely. Brienne was his closest friend. His best friend. They told each other almost everything. Almost. Love was never something they discussed. Perhaps because in the months they'd known each other neither one of them had had a love interest, or even dated for that matter.
Her bringing it up now, like that, made him feel a bit uneasy, and quite frankly scared.
"You... should be careful."
His brow rose, reminding him of the swollen cut right above it. "Careful?"
"That your feelings don't influence your actions too much. The girl is important, but she made her choice to leave. And you shouldn't let that cloud everything. You should be looking out for yourself right now. Make this about saving your ass, not the whole of Sheffield."
Gendry's head snapped to face Brienne. "This isn't just about me. It's about all of us! Yoren. Ned. Renly. They're dead!" He could feel himself losing grasp of his calm. He took a deep breath in. "This is for them," he said, a bit more calmly.
Brienne licked her lips, blinking twice at him. "I know. I'm sorry. I just... I don't want to see you get hurt. I'm just looking out for you. You've had enough trouble already with this whole Robert thing, you don't need to pile on girl trouble; especially coming from a mind fuck like Arya Stark."
"Mind fuck!" Gendry felt his entire body heat up with fury at that. "You don't know Arya, alright. So just leave her out of this. She is not a mind fuck, and I'm too preoccupied with staying alive to fall for anyone. If anyone's being mind fucked, it's you."
"What?" Brienne hissed out, stealing a quick glance at the backseat, where Jaime laid. Gendry did too, and thankfully, Jaime was still asleep, despite how loud their "hushed" argument was.
"Do you think I haven't noticed the way you two look at each other? He's trouble, Brienne. He is a murderer."
Brienne turned away from him, jaw clenched tightly. "The only thing I feel for him is pity."
Gendry closed his eyes, blowing out a long, slow sigh. This had gone a bit too far then it should have under their circumstances. He could feel tears welling up behind his closed lids, dampening the rim of his eyes. He hated the whole world right now.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, sniffing once. "I'm just tired, and terrified, and I'm desperate for all of this to end."
"Me too, mate," Brienne whispered, "Me too."
Gendry was about to grab her hand to give her a reassuring squeeze, when a white van pulled up behind them. The headlights flashed a few times, letting them know Sandor was behind the wheel.
Gendry shifted gears, and stepped on the gas, speeding down the lifeless street; Sandor a few feet behind them.
The van he'd taken appeared to belong to a laundromat service. A stupid choice, but at this time of the night, and after everything they had been through, Gendry didn't expect Sandor to use common sense. He had had a feeling the man would be all brute force, but he'd been proven wrong most of the time. Taking a second vehicle not being one of them. He had been against it as soon as Sandor had mentioned it. If they came across trouble, it would be easier to escape... but still, it was foolish. Attracting so much attention like that.
Brienne had oddly agreed with Sandor though, insisting they needed a larger area to set up Varys' equipment, and Gendry didn't really feel like arguing, so he let them have their way.
They made for Kirk Edge Road, and once on it, drove out until Loxley Valley came into view. Gendry scanned the snowy landscape until he saw the perfect spot to hide the van, and edged the car to the side of the road.
"Come on," he whispered to Brienne as he pulled the keys out the ignition and stepped out, walking over towards the van, which Sandor had parked right behind the car. Their surroundings were a shocking white with snow, even in the dark.
Sandor hopped out of the van, his legs sinking almost knee deep into the brown mushy snow at the edge of the tires.
"This is as far as you guys go," Gendry said as soon as Brienne had joined them, "Hide your... stake out van deep in that bushes there." Gendry pointed to a tight group of tall shrubs a few feet from where he'd parked. "She'll be looking for anything suspicious, so really hide it in there. Don't leave the ass hanging out or something. She has to take this road, so you'll see her before I do, and you can tell me if anyone is with her, or following her, so I can make a run for it. I have the ear piece."
Sandor nodded and walked towards the back opening the doors. The back of the van was empty and Gendry didn't know whether it was already empty or Sandor emptied it out on the street back there, wherever he'd stolen it from. He bet on the latter.
Brienne helpd Sandor quickly transfer all the equipment from the stolen car to the stolen van while Gendry helped the sleepy Jaime walk from the car to the van, helping him on through the back. He was burning up with fever. And he smelled.
"Brienne," he called to her while Sandor drove the van deep into the small trees.
"What?"
"He smells like he has an infection. And he's burning up."
Brienne took in the information like a soldier would take unpleasant orders. With nothing but a stiff nod. They both knew what that meant, but they would have to deal with that after he met up with Cersei.
The van was hidden. The equipment and the moribund were in it. It was Gendry's game from here.
"Alright. I'll see you two in a bit," he told Sandor and Brienne as they stood themselves before him. Brienne closed the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around him in a huge bear hug.
"Be careful," she whispered to his ear.
Gendry gave her a strong squeeze before he pulled away, nodding he. "Of course I will," he said coolly, not revealing his nerves, even when his voice cracked a bit. "I'll be fine, mate."
He nodded once at Sandor, and turned for the car. Something caught his arm.
He turned, expecting Brienne, only to realize it was Sandor.
"Let me go."
"What?" Gendry cried, pulling his arm free of Sandor's grip.
"I worked for her. I can get more out of her than you can. It's safer. And smarter."
"I agree," Brienne stepped beside them, "With him, she would feel free to talk. Really talk. About everything. More open to argument. That's better for us. We will record it all."
"No! No way," Gendry raised his hands in the air, "I'm already wired up. Varys took forever with this shit. There's no time. She's on her way." he turned, walking towards the car.
"Gendry, please. Sandor's right, you..."
Gendry turned slowly to face them both, holding his hand up at Brienne to silence her. "I'm doing this. I need to. For me. Not just for Arya. Or a promise to Sansa, or to record Cersei's confession so that we can bring justice to our friend's deaths... but for me."
Brienne and Sandor nodded almost at the same exact time.
He could see in their eyes, even in the dim, crisp darkness of the night, that they disagreed, but understood completely that this was the way it had to go. He nodded one last time and turned, treading his way through the thick snow and towards the car.
"I'll be back," he called out to them without a last glance.
He really hoped that was true.
xxxxxxxxxx
"What's your name?"
"Arya."
He clenched his teeth together. "Arya what?"
"I..." her gaze fell to her hands, which were still wrinkled from the long exposure to water. She closed her mouth and swallowed once, lost in thought.
He didn't want to push for too much. It had been almost three hours since they'd finished and he still wanted to be careful not to make her stir her thoughts too much. It was too risky so soon after finishing the downstairs procedure.
There was a loose thread on the rim of the right sleeve of the grey jumper she wore, and she began to pull at it; rolling it into a little ball, then pulling it, then rolling it again. Over and over again.
Jaqen waited patiently, liking too much the empty expression on her face. It meant all the fierceness and anger was gone, which meant that whatever fuelled it was no longer a part of her. All signs that the procedure had worked.
When she spoke again, her voice betrayed how lost she felt.
"I. Don't know. Just Arya."
"Tell me, just Arya, do you know my name?" he set his glass down on the coffee table, sitting back lazily on his sofa.
"Jaqen."
He nodded once, looking away from her and out of the large glass wall, onto the dark night. It made him restless not to be able to read her like he had Osha.
When he had performed the wipe on Osha, she had asked questions the moment they were done, and she didn't remember her own name or Jaqen's, or anything.
From what he'd noticed so far, it seemed as though Arya's wipe had been more selective. Only sticking to a certain area of her memories. If that was the case, it would take him forever to figure out which bits she chose to forget. He didn't have forever, but he couldn't risk being caught lying to her, for fear of losing her trust, rendering the entire exercise pointless.
Arya sighed, turning his attention back to her. "Is something wrong, love..." he stopped himself before he could call her 'lovely girl'. Be more careful, Jaqen. Patient, and careful.
xxxxxxxxxx
Jaime was, indeed burning up in fever. He tried to play it off, pretending he was perfectly fine, but the shine and cockiness in his eyes was gone, leaving them dull, and fearful.
Good.
Brienne had packed the cabin's first aid kit, and was cleaning up his wounds. Sandor wanted to tell her now to waste her time, but he knew it would be pointless, and without a doubt, would lead into an argument, so he rolled his eyes and stuck to setting up the equipment. It had started to snow lightly outside, but that would help to both cover their tyretracks, and to catch the light of Cersei's headlights, so that any small anomalies in her surrounding wouldn't attract her attention. You could never be too careful. Not with that woman.
Gendry had radioed his location to them, which was about a kilometre and a half away from where they were, and the van had grown quiet after that. Not even Jaime spoke a word, even though he was wide awake.
It made Sandor claustrophobic; being in such a small space with Brienne and Jaime, breathing in the thickness of the atmosphere, feeling the anticipation slowly warm the blood in his body. He hated waiting. But that's all there was left to do now. Wait. Wait for Cersei.
He was forced to endure it for 15 minutes more before the flicker of distant headlights came to view from far up the road. Sandor flew to the window, wiping the condensation off it with his sleeve, and bringing his face up against the glass so he could see though the branches.
"Is it her?" Brienne demanded anxiously, crawling over to him on the small cramped space.
"Carefull with the wires!" he barked at her without turning away from the window. "I can't see yet. She's too far, and the snow picked up, so I can't see the car too well."
"You need to now before she passes us. We need to warn Gendry."
Sandor gritted his teeth. "Don't you think I know that, you stupid bitch."
The car was nearing, and he could see now, that it was Cersei. "It's her. Hand me the microphone," he said, holding his hand out at her. She ignored him, and pressed the talk button on the computer.
"Gendry," she spoke into the microphone, " She's on her way." She shoved her shoulder past Sandor to look out the window. "She's about to pass our van."
Gendry simply said, "Ok."
Sandor was about to say something to her when Jaime cut him off. "This isn't going to work," he muttered, but he didn't seem to believe it himself.
Brienne shoved her way around Sandor, giving him enough room to get to the equipment. He gave everything one last check, raising the volume on Gendry's gear.
"She's here," he whispered.
Sandor could hear the car pull up, and then a car door slam.
"Here we go," he whispered, wiping his hand over his face.
xxxxxxxxxx
The boy stepped out of his car the moment she pulled up next to him, and there was no room for doubt. This was Robert's son.
Cersei could feel her heart beating on her fingertips as she slammed the car door behind her, and walked over to the tall boy though a foot of snow.
"Oh my God," she uttered without meaning to. She was staring at Robert. Robert from all those years ago. Before he began to drink too much. When he was every woman's desire. She dug her fingernails into the pads of her hand inside of her coat pocket, to keep herself from exploding.
"Hi," he told her stiffly. It became too difficult to look at him, when all she saw was Robert, so she let her gaze stray to their surroundings.
"You picked the perfect spot to meet." she huffed out in dry sarcasm.
"I had to be careful," he said.
She smiled, trying to hide her nerves, and turned to boldly look him straight in the eyes. "Well, I'm here. So tell me what you need to tell me."
Gendry cleared his throat, and when he spoke, he did with authority and coldness.
"I know what you're doing," he began, taking a step towards her. She did a good job of not flinching. "And I want you to stop."
She laughed at that. "And what exactly am I doing, according to you?"
"This business withNed Stark's family for starters. I think you've damaged them long enough. That has to stop. This idiotic obsession with a will I want no fucking part in, it has to stop. Your husband... I want nothing to do with the bloke. Or your family, or his money. I don't want him in my life, yet you're destroying lives to make sure I am not part of his. I want you to stop. I'm only giving you one option. That is to come clean. Turn yourself in, bring an end to this all, or you'll leave me no choice but to bring you in myself."
Cersei threw her head back, taking two steps towards Gendry as she laughed hysterically. Gendry looked freaked and confused. Good. He was an idiot, and she had overestimated him.
"And who filled your head with all that nonsense?" she said after she'd composed herself.
"It's not nonsense," he said stupidly.
"Oh, but it is. Someone went out of their way to create this intricate tapestry of lies, and you've tangled yourself in their filth. So, who was it? Tell me, my fierce bull. Who's the source of it all?"
"That's not important, okay. What's important is that it's true, and like I said, I won't be giving you no other option."
Cersei chuckled, shaking her head lightly. "Oh you stupid, foolish boy . . . No. No, I will not turn myself in."
Gendry's jaw stiffened, and his head turned to the side defiantly, sending the flakes of snow that had collected on his dark hair down in a flurry. The stubborn look on his face sent all the blood to her head in a rush.
"I have waited!" she yelled out, her voice carrying over the valley in a menacing way. "Half my life I have waited. I played the dutiful daughter... the blushing bride... the pliant wife! I have endured my father's demands, and your drunken father's neglect, and groping, and my brother's jealousy, and if you think you will cheat me of my hour in the sun, you better bloody think again!"
Her fingers curled around the gun inside the deep pocket of her coat and she pulled it out swiftly, cocking in with her other hand.
Gendry made a quick move too, and she found herself staring down the barrel of his gun, and that he was staring down the barrel of hers.
"Fire that gun, and Jaime dies!"
xxxxxxxxxx
His insides turned to ice at the sound of two guns cocking, and again when Gendry said, "Fire that gun, and Jaime dies!"
"I'm going out there!" Brienne said, but Sandor caught her by the arm in an iron grasp. "You will not."
"Jaime? Where is he?" Cersei said. Brienne exchanged a look with him before sighing in surrender. He released her hand and turned up the volume on the screen.
"That doesn't matter. Just know that we have him, and my people have orders to kill him if something happens to me."
Sandor glanced over at Jaime, who despite his state, sat alert, facing the screen with a frozen expression.
"Guess what? That sick love she has for you just became her doom." Sandor told the blonde with acid in his voice. They'd done it. They'd actually done it.
For a long moment, there was nothing. Not one sound, and Sandor could feel his arms heat with impatience. Finally, Cersei spoke. Very softly and almost inaudibly.
"A sacrifice I am willing to take. Call it collateral damage."
At those words Sandor turned to Brienne, whose head had snapped towards Jaime. For the brief moment he was staring at her face, he could see sympathy in her big blue eyes. But then a gunshot turned all of their attentions to the screen.
"Gendry!" Sandor yelled into the microphone. "Gendry!"
There was no reply for the 4 longest seconds of his life, before he finally heard, "I'm okay. She's running, I'm going after her."
Brienne snatched the microphone from Sandor before he could say anything else.
"Gendry. Don't, We have the recording. You don't need to go after her. Let her run," she said desperately, but Gendry didn't reply.
"Fuck!" Sandor cried out, enraged, and kicked the van doors open, jumping out. He could hear the load engine of cars as they sped East. Towards them.
He swatted away at branches as he made his way out of the large bushes that hid the van, and towards the road. He could hear Brienne struggling behind him. He could hear the hiss of the tires on the snowy road, and the approaching engines, louder and louder. He made it out of the bushes on time to see both cars speed by him and around the curve in the road. Both cars were hydroplaning, but it was Gendry's that made a 180 degree turn in the snowy road before flipping over a few times, ending up on its side.
"Gendry!" Brienne shrieked as she ran towards the flipped car.
It took Sandor a few seconds to react and finally run towards the car too.
"Gendry! Gendry!" Brienne cried out hysterically. He could hear the tears in her voice.
They made it to the car at the same time, and he yanked the door open, and reached in to free Gendry from his seat belt.
"Gendry! Answer me!" Brienne wailed behind him.
"Grab his shoulder. Careful." Sandor told her, and she did, helping him carefully pull him out of the car and only the snow.
His head face was full of blood and he was limp. Lifeless.
Brienne threw herself on the snow besides his body and pulled him into her arms, leaning against his chest to find a beat. She looked up at Sandor with wet eyes. "He's not . . . he's not breathing," she sobbed out in her deep voice before digging her face into Gendry's neck.
"I'll bring the van," Sandor said with a dry mouth as he ran towards the van with snow heavy boots and a hollow in his chest. He could hear Brienne wailing incoherently behind him, which only chilled him more than he already was.
Why! Fuck damn it! Why!
He asked himself over and over again until he made it to the van, and pushed himself onto the driver's seat, sliding the key in the ignition, turning quickly to check on Jaime, only to realize he was gone, and the equipment trashed.
And at that moment, he wept. Letting his face fall forward into his arms as his entire body shook against the steering wheel with his loud sobs.
Gendry was dead... their evidence trashed...
"I've failed you little bird. I failed you."
AN
Finally!
Ugh! A million "i'm sorry" to you all. I had a crap load of stuff pile on me at once. Work, two plays, one I was directing and managing (writing a script, making costumes, rehearsals every day, fundraising, directing, etc) and one I was acting in. plus the holidays sort of came in, and prep for tax season, and me catching up on sleep and rest.
But i'm back, plays are over, and I'm not back in school until August :) so i will be updating like i was at the beginning of the story. For those who tagged along later, that was roughly once a week, give or take a few days.
So! I dedicate this chapter partially to AuroreMartell and her love of Rickon. This one is for you darling. So we know that Osha indeed had Rickon, and that she now remembers everything, and it's properly messed her up.
Also, the Sandor/Brienne/Gendry/Jaime scenes were so heavy on feelings. All four of them are just so... "AGHHH! Babies!"
I know it feels like not a lot happened in this chapter. This was one of those segue chapters. Sort of like chapter 10, where everything changes after it, well after this chapter, I hope to dramatically change the pace for everyone. And I mean everyone. I want to pick it up, because one of the changes will be that all those POV that scattered all over the map after the Cutler's Hall shooting will begin to come back together, and the focus will be more clear. You'll see it and understand it better when you begin to read it in the chapters to come.
I love you all dearly, even if I don't know any of you. You have all made this worth while. I love and trully appreciate all of your reviews. Please keep them coming, and again, im sorry it took me so long. Life came in the way.
