Arya Stark licked her fingers clean. She'd just finished the pastry Hot Pie had made her when they said their goodbyes. He had meant for it to be shaped like a wolf, but what it lacked in appearance, it surely made up for in taste.
Once she was clean, Arya wiped her hand on the leg of her trousers and returned it to hold onto Thoros' waist before her. Not long into their journey, he'd placed a hood over her head, leaving her in the dark, only able to trust this near-stranger and his horse.
Though she wasn't locked away in the small carriage with the Hound, she felt like a just as much of a prisoner. "These woods aren't safe for Ned Stark's daughter," Thoros had said to her. "You're lucky we found you."
And yet, Arya didn't feel lucky at all. Her father was dead. Her brother was fighting a war. Her family likely thought she was dead. Her greatest friend and former handmaiden had been taken away from her. And now she'd lost another friend; Hot Pie had been bought by the innkeeper as payment for all the free meals she'd given Thoros over the years.
She never thought she would say it, but she missed Hot Pie. He never stopped talking and all he ever did was slow them down, but he was her friend. And now he was gone. Probably sweating away in the kitchens of the inn at the crossroads. Happily working, crushing cherries, baking pies. He had survived Harrenhal and now he was doing what he loved.
Hot Pie was the lucky one. Not Arya.
"Can I take this hood off yet?" she asked.
"I do apologize, little lady, but it's better for you if you don't see where we're going," Thoros responded.
Arya heard a horse neighing somewhere in their caravan. Then a man called for them to halt. Thoros slowed his horse down to a stop. Arya felt him turn around and partially lift up her hood, but not enough that she could see very well. She could make out the wineskin he was offering to her, but that was about it.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Blackstrap rum," he told her.
"Ugh!" she grunted when he thrust the drink under her nose. Then the hood fell back over her face, returning her to the darkness.
"Not easy finding molasses in wartime," Thoros sighed, closing the wineskin. "You're not as adventurous as your old handmaiden was. She gladly took me up on this when I first met her."
Arya felt a twinge of happiness inside her. "You knew Fallon?"
"Sweet girl. I do hope she's well," Thoros sighed. "You're sure you don't want any?"
"I'm sure," Arya said. She suddenly felt like she could trust Thoros more now.
"I'd have some," came the voice of Gendry from behind them.
Arya heard someone catch the skin Thoros had tossed. She had almost forgotten Gendry was still with her. Her only friend these days. Though she knew the Brotherhood could find work for him as their blacksmith, she wished they wouldn't. She had grown to deeply care about Gendry and hoped he'd keep her company on her way back to her family, perhaps even man the forge for Robb, rather than for these men.
Someone grabbed onto Arya's arm and pulled it around his shoulders, snaking another arm around her waist to ease her down off the horse.
"Let's go home," Thoros said.
Once Arya was put back on the ground, she was led by two men down a few hills. As they got closer to their destination, she started to hear running water and realized that wherever they were going, it was under a waterfall. She could feel the spray hitting her as she blindly traveled down.
"Careful, little lady," Thoros murmured over her shoulder. "It's a bit slippery."
Knowing that the Hound was not far behind her, Arya hoped the men escorting him wouldn't be so kind as to warn him.
Her blood boiled at the thought of him. She remembered stopping him outside the inn—the very same inn where she watched him carry Mycah's dead body over the back of his horse. Fallon had tried to hide her face from the corpse, but she had seen it. And that was when she knew one day she would kill the Hound.
"You remember the last time you were here?" she had asked him earlier this day.
He had looked around, then sneered back down at her, "Looks like every other shit inn on the road."
The Hound not remembering what had been haunting her for months only made her hate him more. How? she wondered. How in seven hells could Fallon have befriended him?
Arya could still hear dripping water as she was led around what she could only imagine was a cavern under the waterfall. Eventually she heard the sound of crackling fire, more than just the torches held by the Brotherhood around her.
She was stopped and her hood was removed. Her instincts had been correct about where she was. The hood had prepared her for the darkness she was met with. Beside her stood Gendry. She was happy to see him again, her friend amongst strangers.
Closer to the firepit stood the Hound, still hooded and tied up with ropes. He whipped his head around, trying to get his bearings as best he could. Arya smirked, enjoying his confusion.
"What is this place?" Gendry asked.
"Somewhere neither wolves nor lions come prowling," Thoros said from the other side of Arya before walking off, his hair still in the same bun he'd tied when they rode away from the inn.
Anguy finally pulled the hood off of the Hound and walked away from him. Arya watched as he backed away from the fire. Was that fear she sensed? Was the vicious dog afraid of fire?
He seemed to have calmed down a bit by the time Thoros approached him. The Hound took in his surroundings. Arya couldn't see his face, but she thought she heard him snicker.
"Yeh look like a bunch of swineherds," he said.
"Some of us were swineherds," Anguy pointed out from across the fire. "And some of us tanners. And masons. That was before."
"Yeh're still swineherds, and tanners, and masons," the Hound told him. "Yeh think carrying a crooked spear makes you a soldier?"
"No," said a new voice.
Arya saw a couple brothers move out of the way for this man to walk through. He had a strip of leather tied around his head as an eyepatch of sorts. He looked disheveled, like he had been through a lot in his life.
"Fighting in a war makes you a soldier," the man continued.
"Beric Dondarrion?" the Hound sounded surprised. Arya vaguely recognized that name. "You've seen better days."
"And I won't see them again," Beric said.
"Stark deserters, Baratheon deserters…" the Hound shook his head and started turning around to address the entire Brotherhood in his audience. "You lot aren't fighting in a war, you're running from it."
"Last I heard you were King Joffrey's guard dog," Beric said. "But here you are a thousand miles from home. Which of us is running?"
"Untie these ropes and we'll find out," the Hound growled. "What are you doing? Leading a mob of peasants?"
"Ned Stark ordered me to execute your brother in King Robert's name."
Arya and Gendry exchanged glances. This man had known her father. Surely, he was a friend.
"Ned Stark is dead," the Hound said, making Arya clench her fists. "King Robert is dead. My brother's alive," he spat down on the ground. "You're fighting for ghosts."
"That's what we are," Beric smirked up at the Hound. "Ghosts. Waiting for you in the dark. You can't see us, but we see you. No matter whose cloak you wear—Lannister, Stark, Baratheon—you prey on the weak, the Brotherhood Without Banners will hunt you down."
"You found god. Is that it?" the Hound asked.
"Aye. I've been reborn in the light of the one true god. As have we all."
Gendry stepped behind Arya and came to her other side, as if to hear what they were speaking of better.
"As would any man who's seen the things we've seen," Beric continued.
"If you mean to murder me then bloody well get on with it," the Hound said impatiently. "Whatever god or gods're up there know I've nothing to live for anymore."
The last thing he said made Arya's ears perk up, but she wasn't sure why.
"You'll die soon enough, dog," Thoros assured the Hound. "But it won't be murder. Only justice."
"And a kinder fate than yeh deserve," Anguy hissed. "Lions yeh call yerselves. At the Mummer's Ford, girls of seven years were raped, and babes still on the breast were cut in two while their mothers watched."
"I wasn't at the Mummer's Ford. Dump yer dead children at some other door," the Hound said defensively.
"House Clegane was built upon dead children," Thoros raised his voice. "I saw them lay Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys before the Iron Throne."
"Do you take me for my brother?" the Hound asked. "Is being born Clegane a crime?" he projected across the cavern.
"Murder is a crime!" Anguy hollered.
"I never touched the Targaryen babes. I never saw them. Never smelled them. Never heard them bawling. You want to cut my throat, GET ON WITH IT!" the Hound roared. "But don't call me murderer and pretend that you're not."
Arya couldn't hold anything back anymore. "You murdered Mycah," she called out. The Hound and the Brotherhood all turned to look at her. "The butcher's boy. My friend."
Beric started walking closer, listening intently to her words.
"He was twelve years old. He was unarmed. And you rode him down. You slung him over your horse like he was some deer," Arya told him, biting back tears.
Finally, the Hound seemed to remember. "Aye, he was a bleeder."
"You don't deny killing this boy?" Beric turned to him.
"I was Joffrey's sworn shield. The boy attacked the prince," the Hound admitted to the one-eyed man.
"That's a lie," Arya seethed, causing Beric to whip his head around to her. "I hit Joffrey. Mycah just ran away."
"Then I should've killed you," the Hound turned to her again. "Not my place to question princes."
"Don't know what that lovely Fallon girl ever saw in you," Thoros shook his head.
The Hound snapped his head towards Thoros at the sound of her name.
"Couldn't understand how she was so fond of you. Where is she now?" Thoros asked.
Arya felt heavy pressure on her chest. She stared fiercely at the Hound, anticipating his answer.
"She was taken from me," he finally said, his voice low.
In the flickering light, Arya saw Thoros' face fall. "Is she dead?" he asked.
The Hound said nothing. Arya's anger bubbled up inside her once again and restraint became something she couldn't muster at all.
"Did you murder her too?!" Arya shouted.
Gendry grabbed onto her wrist, ready to hold her back if she tried to attack him, which she very much felt she was about to do.
The Hound turned on her, fire in his eyes. He was about to say something when Beric interrupted him.
"ENOUGH!" he barked, glaring at Arya first, then the Hound. "You stand accused of murder. But no one here knows the truth of the charge, so it is not for us to judge you. Only the Lord of Light may do that now."
Arya stood next to Gendry, still feeling his hand on her wrist. She breathed deeply, tears in her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to look at the Hound anymore, so she stared into the fire.
"I sentence you to trial by combat," Beric said.
"So, who will it be?" the Hound smirked. He turned to Thoros. "Should we find out if your Fire God really loves you, priest?" Then he turned back to Anguy. "Or you, archer? What are you worth with a sword in yer hand?" The Hound glanced back at Arya, a sick smile on his face. "Or is the little girl the bravest one here?"
"Aye, she might be," Beric admitted, turning to look at her as well. "But it's me you'll fight."
As angry and upset as Arya was, she found solace in the look on the Hound's face. She saw it again—just as with the fire, a sense of fear in his eyes. Perhaps Beric would help Arya tick a name off her list.
"Who was Fallon?" Gendry asked in a hushed voice as the Brotherhood prepared for the trial by combat.
"She was my friend," Arya merely said, her eyes still glassy.
"And you think the Hound killed her too?"
Arya felt a pang in her heart. "I wouldn't put it past him."
"I don't know, he seemed quite upset about her."
"I don't care what he seemed. He's a murderer," Arya said fiercely, sitting down on a nearby rock and turning her attention to Thoros, who stood at the fire.
"Lord, cast your light upon us," the Red priest said.
"Lord of Light, defend us!" the Brotherhood chanted in their circle around the cavern.
Anguy was cutting the Hound free of his bindings. The Hound's armor made loud noises as he stretched out his arms, sore from being tied up for so long.
"Show us the truth," Thoros implored the flames. "Strike this man down if he is guilty. Give strength to his sword if he is true. Lord of Light, give us wisdom… For the night is dark and full of terrors."
"For the night is dark and full of terrors," the Brotherhood chanted in response.
As the Hound was given his sword back by one of the brothers and started swinging it around, Thoros turned to grab Beric's sword. Beric was kneeling down by the fire, most likely praying for himself. Thoros approached him and cut Beric's palm, which Arya watched through the dancing flames. Then Thoros handed him the sword and Beric slid it over his gash from the hilt up, igniting the blade with fire.
Arya watched in awe as Beric held his flaming sword. She felt a resurgence of hope when she saw, just past Beric's kneeling body, the Hound stumble backwards with wide eyes.
Both fighters were given a shield from one of the brothers. Arya was delighted to see the small, wooden one thrust into the Hound's arm. Once both were wielding their implements, it wasn't long before the Hound roared and lunged forward.
After watching Beric parry the Hound's attacks successfully, stopping only to cock his head at his opponent, Arya stood up. She wanted the best possible view of the Hound's demise—for herself, and more importantly, for Mycah.
The men continued to fight. Beric had backed the Hound into the circle of brothers, making them have to move out of the way as Beric swung his fiery sword. Arya had to duck away, almost running into Gendry, just before the Hound grabbed one of the brothers and threw him in the middle of the fray. The Hound then lunged forward and met Beric's sword in the air. He raised his shield and hit Beric with it, knocking him backwards.
Arya was breathless. Beric had had the upper hand it, but it appeared he was losing it. The Hound was now backing him across the cavern, grunting as he wildly thrashed his sword around. But just as her hopes were dwindling, Beric dodged one of the Hound's attacks and knocked him backwards, making him stumble into a small fire behind a set of small barrels.
The Hound screamed as the embers flew up around him. But he quickly stepped out of the flames and kicked the barrels at Beric. This didn't stop Dondarrion. He lunged at the Hound, until his opponent raised a leg and kicked him away. Beric scuttled backwards, trying to catch his breath. When the Hound came upon him, though, he managed to push the larger man down.
"Get back!" hissed Thoros, quickly grabbing Arya so the Hound wouldn't fall on her.
The Hound raised his sword in time to parry some of Beric's fiery blows. Then he got up and attacked Beric with such force that he actually broke off part of Beric's shield. Beric discarded it and fought back, though. He fought with such ferocity that he knocked the Hound onto his haunches.
Unfortunately, the Hound was quick with his shield and managed to get back to his feet. Arya felt tears in her eyes and hoped that Beric would soon dispatch him. She didn't believe in the Lord of Light, but she hoped He would give her justice.
"Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!" the brothers chanted as the Hound's shield went up in flames.
The Hound stood back, crying out as he tried to extinguish the blaze himself. Arya felt antsy and wondered why Beric was merely standing there, swinging his sword around instead of chopping the Hound's head off while he was distracted.
"KILL HIM!" she shrieked desperately.
Beric finally went at the Hound, his men still chanting around him. The Hound blocked him and then elbowed him in the chest, sending Beric backwards yet again. He fell to his knees, and without his shield, resorted to holding his sword above his head. The Hound yelled as he swung his sword down. And down it went. Through Beric's flaming metal. And through Beric's shoulder.
The chanting died as the blood spurted out. The Hound let go of his sword and stepped back when Beric dropped what remained of his own. The one-eyed man fell onto his side, unmoving.
Everyone was still, except for Thoros, who flung himself forward, onto Beric's lifeless body. As he quickly whispered a prayer over his friend, the Hound discovered there were still flames on his shield. He threw himself onto the ground, crying out as he tried to stamp out the fire by bashing his shield on the floor below.
Sensing her moment, Arya turned around and grabbed a knife from the holster of the nearest brother she could find.
"ARYA, DON'T!" Gendry hollered, running around the boulder she was climbing over and catching her before she could attack the Hound.
"NO! NO! LET GO OF ME! LET ME GO!" she screeched, fighting against Gendry as he wrestled her to the ground.
"Looks like their god likes me more than your butcher's boy," the Hound gloated, the sick smile back on his face.
"BURN IN HELL!" Arya screamed back at him, helpless against Gendry's strong arms.
"He will…" panted a familiar voice.
Both Arya and the Hound looked over at Beric, who was somehow back on his knee, his armor ruined. Thoros had brought him back to life. It was enough to make anyone wonder if the Red God actually was the one true god.
"…But not today," Beric finished, catching his breath.
"I want my gold!"
"It says it clearly right there on that note, you'll be repaid in full when the war's over," Thoros told the Hound, holding his hands before him.
"PISS ON THAT!" the Hound shouted, angrily throwing the note onto the ground in front of him. "You're nothing but thieves!"
"We're outlaws!" Anguy piped up. "Outlaws steal. You're lucky we didn't kill yeh."
"Come try it, archer," the Hound stepped forward, but was yanked back by Thoros before he could finish his threat. "I'll shove those arrows up your arse!"
"You can't let him go! He's a murderer! He's guilty!" Arya yelled.
"Not in the eyes of god," Beric said, his voice tired.
"You can't!"
"ENOUGH!" he bellowed as Anguy was handed the Hound's weapons. "The judgment isn't ours to make." Beric cocked his head at Anguy, who tossed the effects back to their owner. "Go in peace, Sandor Clegane. The Lord of Light isn't done with you yet."
Without another word, the Hound was flanked by two brothers and a hood was thrust over his head. He was escorted out of the cavern as swiftly as possible. And Arya hoped that since the Lord of Light couldn't have him killed, then hopefully this would be the last she ever saw of him.
"Arya," Gendry muttered, grabbing her arm.
She knew he meant it as a comforting gesture, but she didn't want comfort at that moment. She wrenched herself free and stormed off, finding a quiet spot behind a rock in the darkness. She curled up, resting her side against the rock. She wrapped her arms around herself and did something she hadn't done in a long time. She let her angry tears fall.
She cried for Mycah. Joffrey had lied and Cersei sent the Hound after an innocent boy. He had died so young and so brutally for something she had done. And no one cared. No one, not even the Red God, cared except for her.
As Arya wiped at her cheeks, she couldn't stop thinking about the split second where she saw his body. The image had plagued her dreams ever since. And even then, as she sat there behind that rock, she pictured the boy, slung over the large black horse that had almost bitten her in the stables at Winterfell. They seemed so real, standing before her. She could see Mycah's face, frozen in terror, staring at her, asking why he had to die because she defended him from the prince.
Arya squeezed her eyes shut and clasped at her forehead. Her small body shaking, she finally opened her eyes again. And now, sitting on the back of the horse was a new ghost.
The woman sat side-saddle, draped in a dirty black cloak, splattered with blood. From what Arya could see under the cloak, the woman's dress was stained with more blood. Her neck was bruised and her face was scraped. Her gray-green eyes were shining, but her face was stoic. Her long chestnut brown hair was braided from the top, flowing down to her elbows. She stared ahead, towards the opening of the cavern, where the Hound had just been taken through.
Arya shut her eyes again and curled into a tighter ball, the visions of not only Mycah, but Fallon as well were too much. She rocked back and forth and tried her hardest to shut her mind off.
"Joffrey. Cersei. Ilyn Payne. Ser Meryn. The Hound," she sharply whispered to herself. "Joffrey. Cersei. Ilyn Payne. Ser Meryn. The Hound."
Arya repeated the list until she finally felt alone. She sat there, behind the rock, holding herself, and crying, until some of the brothers returned from a hunt with rabbits and squirrels.
Whaaaat? An all Arya chapter that's also 99% stuff taken from the show? Am I being lazy or am I building tension? (pls don't answer that; pls just love me)