A Son of Ice and Fire

A/N: My computer decided to have a meltdown, so sorry this has been a bit of a wait. Chapter 58 will be the big reunion you've all been waiting for :)

Guest: Yeah, at some point Stoick and Valka's song will come in, but I didn't feel it would be right to put in when they first reunite like in the movie. Too much had happened and needed to be settled, but I will have it included at some point in this season.

Guest: You're true there, you can never trust the Lannisters.

Guest: Good guess, but Margaery isn't the main reason she's going there.

Guest: I can't give you the exact episode, but we are still definitely in the 1st half of the season. Daenerys' Astapor storyline ends is ep4, but I've not started that yet and it's not like timing is that important with her, because of how isolated her character is in regard to every other in the story (Westeros)

Odinson: Yeah I could include that at one point. Maybe it has already happened and I could do a flashback for it.

Guest: I haven't seen the Hobbit so sorry I don't get the resemblance, just let me know what you meant by it next time you review :)

Guest: Thank you for the kind words, I hope to keep it up in the future. Especially with the world this story takes place in, having more family relations allows me to make more complex storylines and I like the way it has turned out. In regards to Dragon's edge and Spitelout, I'm leaving it open-ended for the time being, but I will return to it before the end of the season for sure.

Eye: With how Loras Tyrell was beat by Brienne as well, I think he must have a habit of being beaten in combat by women. I think for sure Astrid could wipe the floor with him.

Chapter 56: Misfortune and necessity

Astrid

Despite my early worries, the man in command's honour seemed to be far greater than that of his men. On the walk, he was quiet and cold, focused at all times, and even as the night drew near and the soldiers began to ease down, he remained completely rigid. Being alone and unarmed, with so many men so close, made the night one of the most uncomfortable I'd ever had. With the pointiest twig I could find grasped tightly in my palm and one eye open, I tried my best to sleep, but every rustle nearby would cause my heart to beat just a little bit faster. When dawn broke and I wearily dragged myself up, I could already feel the eyes on me. Men watched my every move with sharpened, probing glares, and all I wanted to do was to just get away. I hoped Heather would somehow find me, but all she'll think is that I just left her. I promised her I'd wait, and for all she'll know, I broke that promise. Maybe it is for the best. Now she can stay with her family and not worry about me.

It was barely another two hours before we reached the Lannister garrison, but most of soldiers with us looked to be in fairly bad shape. Over a year of war and losing so many comrades must have worn them down, as we all but marched in silence. Their armour scuffed and battered in places and the sombre expression on their faces showed the true lack of morale that choked the group through the group like a plague. The Lannister base itself wasn't much better. The interior ring of tents was precisely arranged, but beyond that, the two dozen others were spread out carelessly. The open field was damp and marshy, with soggy mud that pulled you down with every step, but still we ploughed on. The guards watching the perimeter scanned us thoroughly as we approached, but the man in charge of the soldiers with us just stormed straight through without hesitation.

The man led us across the field, his bright red armour shining in the morning sun so brightly it matched his hair. Unfazed by anything but his mission it seemed, he advanced swiftly through the maze towards the centre. The tent was larger than any other, and the red fabric stood impressively high overlooking the others, as the wind caused ripples to dance across the linen. Before he entered, he turned to me and put one hand up vertically.

"Please wait here," he said flatly. I simply nodded, and waited, as he ducked his head inside and the faint sound of a conversation whispered from within. A few of the other soldiers were left to watch me, but the rest had dissolved into the camp and were lost in the sea of red and gold. A very awkward five minutes of silence passed, as I just stood there humming and tapping my foot impatiently, before the man returned and greeted me with a single nod. "The Commander will see you now," he stated firmly. He held open one of the flaps on the tent, and I crouched my way inside.

I don't know what I expected, but what was right before my eyes was something I would never have believed. In full red intricate armour head to toe, made more from a thick fabric than metal, was a woman who stood as proud as anyone I'd ever seen. With golden shoulder straps and a belt shaped like an arrowhead, the Commander fixed her gaze upon me, as she tucked her hands behind her back. Her short blonde was hair parted across to one side, and her pale green eyes inspected me with both intrigue and cynicism. I took another small step into the room, before I heard the man's voice behind me.

"Do you need to me to stay, my Lady?" He asked.

"No, that is all," she responded bluntly. I looked behind to see him turn to leave, but the woman's voice pulled his attention back to her. "Thank you for your service, Sir Throk, you've never let me down."

The knight nodded to her and smiled, "I'm here to serve, my Lady, I will not fail you."

"I know you won't," she grinned back, before the whoosh of wind across my neck from the closing flap signalled he had left the two of us alone.

I stood there for a few moments, still more than a slight bit in shock. Women can't even fight in the army if they want to, so how has she managed to become a Commander of hundreds, maybe thousands, of men? I should get some tips. The woman's momentary change to one of happiness almost as quickly returned to the emotionless clean slate she wore the second I had first stepped foot in the tent. She stepped across to the table at the far side and picked up my axe that was lying flat on the surface. Her fingers brushed across the edge of the blade, as she tilted it to one side, then the other.

"This is a fine weapon," she finally stated, as she examined the axe, "and custom made, as well."

"Thank you, Lady…?"

"Mala, Lady Mala," she answered, as she began to walk towards me.

"Thank you, Lady Mala, it was a gift." I said, as she came even closer. Without even a pause to delay, she kept walking until she was directly infront of me, and then she held out the axe towards me. I gave her a questioning look, as if to say 'is this a trick,' but she just prompted me to take it. Still trying to work out what game she was playing, I carefully accepted it and quickly grasped a firm hold around the handle. Just holding it almost put me in a bubble, as if it formed some sort of imaginary shield, instantly filling me with a sense of sceurity. I looked up from the weapon towards her, narrowing my eyes slightly.

"I'm not a fool, my Lady, I know as well as you do that you could strike me down in a moment's notice. Throk's already told me how you killed three of my men with that weapon, but I am offering you it back as a sign of peace," she said.

"Peace?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The men are tired. Food is running low, All everyone wants is to go home," she sighed. "Taking you back to King's landing will at least give some of us a bit of time outside of this warzone. At the least it will get us good favour." I studied her closely, more with curiosity than anger. "You could take a shot and try to kill me, but I think you're smarter than that. If you fail, I'll kill you. Even if you succeed, you won't get far, and then you will be the next one to die. So, what's your decision?"

"Well, as you made such a convincing argument," I chuckled, as I lowered the weapon gradually "But why me? What does taking me the capital do for anyone? I don't get what this is all about." I exclaimed bluntly .

"Neither do I, but you mean something to someone, and I have to follow my orders," she said sharply, as she shook her head. "It's probably to do with the new alliance."

"The new alliance?" I challenged her. Gods, how much I have missed?

"You haven't heard?" She asked, and I just shook my head. "The Westerlands and the Reach have united. Together they defeated Stannis Baratheon, an attempted usurper, and soon, the two biggest Houses of the two regions will be joined through marriage as well." If the reach fought off against Stannis, I just hope my brother is okay. He better be. I didn't respond outright in anyway so she just continued. "King Joffrey Baratheon is to marry Lady Margaery Tyrell." That's an… unexpected development. Huh, so Margaery will be Queen. Well, if anyone was born for it, it was her.

"It does make sense," I nodded, "but it still doesn't explain why it's me they want. Surely my brother would make more sense, he's the heir to House Hofferson after all."

"Honestly, I understand war better than politics," Mala chuckled, "at least in war you know who your enemies are." As she spoke, she removed her own weapon from her back, and smiled as she gazed upon it. The blade was long and thin, with its end curved upwards, and the steel shone with patterns as light poured through openings in the tent.

I let out a deep breath, finally ready to ask the question I wanted since I first stepped inside. "Lady Mala," I started, and her gaze momentarily flicked up to meet mine, "may I ask how you became a Commander? I've proven to be able to fight on so many occasions but at the sheer thought of me fighting with and commanding men, people would just laugh." Mala just smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"Misfortune and necessity," she stated firmly. "After three large successive defeats, one that included having Sir Jaime be captured, it was clear the Commanders were incapable of beating the northerners in battle. My House isn't that large, but we do share blood with the Lannisters, and when I had led what men I had to a few successive small victories, it seems I gained recognition. I think Lord Tywin could ignore the fact that I'm a woman, for the moment, at least if we keep winning."

"So, do you fight with your men?" I asked.

She glanced fondly once more down at her sword. "Eruptodon, House Lanniswing's family sword. Valerian steel, and forged in the pit of a volcano, this sword has kept me safe in over a dozen battles."

"I know how important a weapon can be," I grinned while looking down at my own. I paused for a few seconds. "So, are we leaving for King's landing today, or will it be a while longer?"

"I think that…" she started, but the tent burst open behind me and Sir Throk charged in. "What is the meaning of this?" Mala scowled past me.

"Northern spy," Throk panted, still clearly out of breath. "We found her on the east ridge. Managed to ride her down and capture her. What are your orders, my Lady?"

"Bring her to me. I'll execute her myself," Mala said with a tone as cold as ice. Every muscle in her body looked to tense, and her jaw clenched as she held her weapon close to her chest.

I could only stand there helplessly, as Throk exited as suddenly as he has entered. The air in the tent seemed to sour, snesing what was about to happen. Lady Mala was breathing rhythmically, as if she was readying herself up for what was about to happen. As the flap swept open again, a small figure was shoved inside so roughly she landed flat on the floor. I wanted to keep looking away, as the Commander moved towards her, but I forced myself to turn my eyes towards the beaten figure. The ragged black hair draped in mud and mixed with sticks and leaves cloaked her face, but as she raised her eyes and they met mine, my heart nearly stopped. I saw the panic in those bright green eyes as Throk hauled her to her knees. Mala moved methodically, and soon hovered above her, but I was already moving.

"STOPPPPP!" I screamed, placing myself between the two women.

"What is the meaning of this?" Mala growled through grated teeth, her blade still raised high in her hand.

"She's not a spy," I pleaded, "she's my sister."

"Sister?" Mala sputtered, squinting sharply.

"Well, Sister-by-law. She's married to my Brother," I answered firmly. I could see Mala's gaze sweeping between the two of us, and I could feel Throk's eyes burning a hole in the back of the my head. "We were travelling together. She went to collect firewood, and when you brought me back here, she must have followed you," I said as convincingly as I could manage.

"Is this true?" Mala asked, this time aiming at Heather.

"Yes, my Lady." Heather forced out, her voice weak as she struggled with every word.. "When Astrid wasn't there, I followed your tracks, until it led me here... I just wanted to make sure she wasn't in trouble," Heather forced out, but stopped halfway through clutching her stomach. I turned to face her, ignoring the looming threat of the blade above my head, as I pulled her to her feet.

"You are an idiot," I sighed, as I pulled her into a hug. As I held her, I glared past her to the now sheepishly looking Throk, "Did no-one think to ask her who she was before assuming she was a spy? Is this how you treat a Lady of one of your ally Houses?"

"Please let me apologise for the actions of my men," Mala grumbled, and the click of her locking her weapon back away allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. "Throk, fetch the healer, let's hope for your sake you've done no permanent damage."

"Yes, my lady," Throk replied weakly, as he darted away from the Commander's wrath. I could feel Heather shaking against me. She had been stripped of her armour and down to just the thinnest of layers, and all I could do was try and keep her warm.

"Have you got her coat and some spare layers she can have? She's freezing." I asked, as I rubbed Heather's back vigorously.

"Of course, my Lady, anything she needs," Mala consented, and headed past us towards the exit. Just before she walked out, she turned back, "And to answer your previous question, we will be going to the capital sooner, rather than later. Because of this…incident, we'll give you and your sister the rest of today to recover. That should give you enough time to make up for the stupidity that brought her in like this. But by dawn, my ladies, we will be on our way."

Tuffnut

The journey back to the Brotherhood's base was short, and yet it was one of the most enjoyable rides I'd had in years. I loved the camaraderie, the laughs and the smiles, even the singing. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, and that, above all else, was what I needed right now. The group seemed to share a bond, less like an army and more of a close knit guild. If it was only supplying me with the feelings of nostalgia to when I was back at home with my own family, it still felt good to feel this sense of calm. No hostilities, no rivalries, just a feeling of togetherness. On the trip, Beric and I exchanged some of our stories, neither none too joyous, but it felt good to just… not be alone.

The bag on my head felt unnecessary, but I didn't grumble, and as the horse slowly plodded its way through the forest towards their secret hideout, I could only sit and wait. When the thick sack was removed, I slowly rolled off the side of the stallion's back and looked around. It was dark and it was cramped, but it was the opposite of cold. The cave wasn't that large, and with the raging fires, the den was sweltering hot. I plodded aimlessly for a few minutes, but before I could even have the time to sit down or talk to anyone, cheers rose from the entrance. I looked around for Lord Beric, but somehow he had vanished into the darkest corners of the cave, so I kept my focus on those that had just come in. Two dozen men flooded in, as well as one small girl who looked completely out of place. Infront of them, a larger man pushed in, with his arms tied and his head covered. When his face was finally revealed, the scarring across one side was the clearest thing to identify him. That face belonged to only one man - the Hound.

The man looked around with rage in his eyes, as he growled under his breath and threw out insults as quick as you could blink. "Cowards, the lot o' yer. You think carrying a crooked spear makes you a soldier?" He snapped, his gaze fixed only on the person infront of him. The shorter man, with his dark brown hair hanging loosely to either side, and with a messy tangled beard, just smiled humorously up at him.

"No." Came the voice out of the deepest depths of the cave. All eyes turned to watch, as Lord Beric emerged from the darkness. "Fighting a war makes you a soldier."

"Beric Dondarrion?" The Hound exclaimed with shock etched across his face. The surprise quickly fade and all that remained on his face was the scowl. His eyes scanned across everyone, and he huffed loudly. "Stark deserters. Baratheon deserters. You're not fighting a war, you're running from it." As I watched the engagement closely, all I could think of was that maybe this wouldn't be a bad place to stay. No-one would care about my exile. I would have food, friends, an actual place that I could make a decent life. Or a better one that I have now anyways. It's an option, at the very least.

The two men's conversation grew more and more heated, and the tension was only increasing the suffocating heat ever further. While accusations of the Hound's crimes were spewed out by men all around, the man being accused only grew angrier. "I did what I was told to do," he snarled, "but don't call me murderer, and pretend that you're not."

"You murdered Mycah!" Came the voice of the girl that had come in moments after us. She looked to be younger than me and Ruff when we were exiled, but the anger in her eyes was clear. "The butcher's boy. My friend. He was twelve years old and unarmed, and you rode him down. Slung him over the side of your horse like he was some deer," she snarled at him.

The Hound tried to protest, but every objection he made was blocked or avoided in some way. Still he argued, and voices began to raise even louder. But despite this, with a small smile across his lips, Lord Beric approached him and looked at him with an expression both calm and firm. "You stand accused of murder, but no-one knows the full truth of the charge, so it is not our place to judge you. Only the Lord of light can do that now. I sentence you to trial by combat." The Hound's eyes seemed to light up for a moment, and a smirk crossed his lips. He chucked insults out to the men closest, but Beric stepped even closer to him. "They would all be worthy as a champion, but it is me you'll fight," he exclaimed proudly. With those words, a sudden sense of dread filled me. I'd seen the Hound fight at tournaments in the past, but I'd never seen Lord Beric fight. If he lost, what would happen then? I couldn't stay here then. He said he brought me here for a reason, surely that can't be to watch him die.

I took a step back, and whispered a few niggling questions into another man's ear before the fight started. I turned back to the main event, where the man with the bedraggled beard was preaching the sacred words, as a prayer to our God. Thoros of Myr, who's name had just been given to me, stood over the fire, as he spoke clearly. Once finished, all eyes turned to Lord Beric, as he held his sword over his palm. I leaned in closer to see what was going out, until but a second later he dragged the blade across his palm and the sword lit up into a column of fire. I could already feel my eyes stretch so wide they could nearly pop out, and my jaw all but dropped to the floor. I need to get someone to teach me that. That is so awesome. With staring at the steel engulfed in flames, I nearly missed the Hound's reaction, but the terror visible on his face was clear as he rocked back a step. Scared of fire, huh, wel I suppose everyone has a weakness.

That momentary pause was short-lived, as with a deep growl, he lunged towards Beric. The two men met fiercely, and metal struck metal so loud that the clangs shook the very foundations of the cave. Lord Beric's blows were precise, so neat and sharp, compared to the heavy powerful strikes of Clegane's. The two seemed evenly matched, as they switched from defence to offense in an instant. Flames barrelled through the air, lighting the Hound's shield on fire to the point where he had to drop it completely. Beric pressed onwards, his blade twisting and curving, but only ever meeting the larger man's steel and not his flesh. Pushed back further and further, the Hound's boots skidded against the dirt, as his aggressor's onslaught was accompanied by chants from his followers.

"GUILTY! GUILTY! GULITY!" Was the forceful, on beat calls , as Beric pushed closer to his victory.

"KILL HIM!" Came the high pitched wail of the girl, as she looked on with a pained expression.

Beric swung at the chest, but the Hound parried it. Beric then swung at his legs, but the Hound pushed him back through sheer strength. Swords clashed once more, the rhythmic chiming of the steel sizzling through the air, as the fatal dance continued. The two men stared each other down, as both locked their blades once more. Lord Beric tried to break free, but with a sharp elbow to his opponents chest, the Hound managed to push him away. Out of breath, and out of stamina, as the Hound approached, Beric dropped to his knees to parry the man's blow. The scarred half of Clegane's face lit up in the face of the fire, but with a loud grunt, he swung down, hard and fast. Then it was done. His blade struck with such force that Beric's blade was cut in two, but the sword wasn't the only casualty. The Hound's sword plunged through the man's heart, and the Hound left it stuck there for all to see. Beric's body remained kneeled for a moment, before falling flat. Lifeless. Oh God. This can't be happening. Am I just a curse? What will I do now? No. This must be a joke. How can this seriously keep happening to me?

Thoros rushed towards the downed fighter, and whispered silent prayers over his friends dead body. The girl sprinted forwards and although calls of her name, 'Arya', were shouted, she ran at the Hound with a dagger in her hand. Firm hands wrapped around her and dragged her back, as she wrestled and screamed in pure hate and anger. The would-be recipitient of the girl's blade just lounged back and laughed. "Looks like your God loves me more than he does your butcher's boy," the Hound laughed heartily.

"BURN IN HELL!" Arya screeched, as another person had to help restrain her.

"He will," came a voice. An impossible voice. A voice strong, but lacking emotion. I turned my eyes to see him, Beric. Actual Beric. Alive. What? Sorcery? How? No, this is mad. The world's gone mad. Lord Beric ever so slightly turned towards me, seeing the utter disbelief painted across my face, and I'm pretty sure he winked, before he turned back to the Hound. "But not today." I just kept staring, completely frozen in place. Lord Beric dragged himself from his knees to his feet, as he shared a knowing nod with Thoros. I looked around at the cave, and the vast majority of the people weren't seemingly unnerved. I mean, how can someone die, actually die, and just come back? And why is no-one at least a bit terrified? Unless this has happened before…

The Hound was dragged away, still laughing, but Lord Beric remained where he was, long after the man had left his view. With Thoros at his side, after a minute, he turned gingerly, and headed straight for me. Even though I tried, it was impossible to mask the mix of confusion and intrigue I was staring at him with. "What? How?" I ended up blabbering. He just smiled, as he approached slowly. His blood was still trickling down the lower part of his breastplate, but it looked like his wound had been magically sealed up, as no new trails were starting. I stood in silence, as he reached out an arm and placed it firmly on my shoulder.

"We serve the same Lord," he stated strongly. "He allows some to see more than others, but we can all share in the gifts he provides for us. If you allow me, I can teach you what I've learned. I can prepare you." He looked straight into my eyes, and I took a few deep breaths to steady myself before I nodded back Maybe he did bring me back to watch him die. Maybe this is to make me believe. "Good. We don't have much time, we might as well get started."