Chapter 15
Tyrion's head pounded as consciousness returned, the back of his head ached and seemed to be covered in a sticky dampness he could only assume was blood. Darkness surrounded him and it took him a moment to gather his bearings. His hands were tied behind his back and he'd been gagged, effectively silencing him. Tyrion tried to free his hands but the rope wouldn't budge and simply dug deeper into his wrists. He appeared to be in some kind of cart with a tarp covering the top as the wooden frame bounced and shuddered as they travelled. Twisting to one side, Tyrion glanced around him spotting a flicker of light coming through a gap in the side of the cart. It wouldn't be enough for anyone to notice him, but it could provide some clue as to where he was being taken.
Not for the first time, Tyrion found himself resenting the North's wild landscape. Though it had its own beauty it made it hard to find identifying land marks. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious or which direction they'd left Winterfell in, but the morning light he could see through the gap indicated it was the next day and they'd likely been travelling all night.
They journeyed onwards with Tyrion alternating between looking through the gap and trying to free his hands. If he had to guess, he'd say they were somewhere in the Wolfswood judging by the sheer quantity of trees. Eventually the cart rolled to a stop and the tarp was ripped back, giving Tyrion a good look at his two captors. One was completely bald with a sharp, pointed face while the other man was much larger with dark, scruffy hair and a beard.
"Hope you enjoyed your trip Lord Lannister" said pointy face, smirking down at him
"Come on little lord" said the larger man, grabbing Tyrion's shoulder and wrenching him from the cart "no point trying to escape"
Neither of the men wore identifying sigils or colours but had Northern accents and were both armed with decent quality swords. Tyrion's stomach dropped; these men were not brigands and appeared to be taking their orders from some higher authority.
The snow on the ground was heavier than near Winterfell as he was frog marched through the trees towards a few buildings hidden in what he was now certain was the Wolfswood. It appeared to be an old, worn down farmhouse with a large barn off to one side and a stable of horses at the other end. Various wooden posts lined the area and several old benches sat in front of the farmhouse surrounding a fire. At some time or another, Tyrion could imagine this had once been an inn. Rather than take him to the building, he was dragged over to a post next to one side of the barn and a length of rope was tied to his bound hands, connecting him to the wooden post. There was just enough slack in the rope for him to sit on the ground, but beyond that he was trapped with his hands behind his back.
"Make yourself at home imp" said pointy face "me and Reg here have some payment to collect, then I'm sure you'll be dealt with"
The larger man called Reg, laughed as Tyrion pulled against the post "You aint going nowhere your lordship"
The men continued to mock him as they headed towards the farmhouse and Tyrion tried in vain to free himself. A faint rustling drew his attention and he glanced towards the barn, spying a woman's face watching him through a broken wooden panel.
"Mmhhh" he said, trying to shake the gag free
The woman watched him until the sound of footsteps crunching across the snow could be heard and the panel shifted back into place, hiding the woman from view.
"It's good to see you, my lord"
Anger flooded Tyrion's body as Robin Flint and Gawan Glover came into view, flanked by his two kidnappers. Robin looked much as he had last time he'd seen him; well-dressed and arrogant. It was Gawan who looked the most different. Away from the scrutiny of his father and the Northern lords, the boy looked wild with at least eight different blades and weapons hanging from his belt. Tyrion repressed a shudder at the memory Sansa had once gone riding with Gawan. The young lord Robin eyed him critically, lingering on the back of his head.
"Looks like you took a nasty blow to the head Tyrion" said Robin, glancing quizzically at the two men either side of him "I did tell them not to harm you"
"He tried to run" said pointy face, with a shrug
"The Queen's pet lion" taunted Gawan, moving closer to him. The young lord had the same cruel glint in his eyes as Joffrey and Tyrion found his hand itching to slap him.
Robin merely watched; amusement in his eyes "I think we can remove the gag. Lord Tyrion can shout all he likes and no-one will hear him out here"
Gawan roughly grabbed his head untying the gag, before stepping back to join Robin and the other men.
"Why?" he asked, glaring at them "Sansa trusted you both"
"Not as much as she trusts you" said Robin with a smirk "I want you to know this isn't personal Tyrion. I bear you no ill will - this is simply business"
Gawan crouched down watching him as if he was some kind of animal "Can't believe the Queen actually let you touch her. Make sure you give her a bath before you bed her Robin"
Tyrion's blood ran cold "What?"
"I see no harm in telling you, you're going to die soon anyway" shrugged Robin, as Gawan continued staring at him "There are two reasons you're here Tyrion, care to have a guess?"
"You want to kill me and marry Sansa"
"Yes, that's the obvious reason" said Robin, nodding
"Rather you that me Robin. She's one cold bitch" said Gawan picking up a stick and poking it at Tyrion's breeches "Bet your cock's got frostbite from bedding her"
"The other reason?" asked Robin, raising his eyebrows
Tyrion glanced around the area, a chilling picture forming in his mind "You're behind the missing girls, aren't you?"
"You are clever lord Tyrion" said Robin, a pleased smile crossing his face "It was very dutiful of you to look into the disappearances, but you were coming far too close to discovering us. Those guards you sent to the gift almost caught a couple of our men last week"
Gawan jabbed his stick at Tyrion a final time before straightening up "Those girls are our property now! The first batch of slaves to be sold in our new business venture"
A cold sweat wormed its way down Tyrion's back "You're selling them into slavery?"
"Given your past, I understand how this could be a sensitive subject for you" said Robin, tone mocking "You needn't worry - we're not selling you. You're going to be our honoured guest for a few days, until it's the right time for a dead Lannister to be found"
Tyrion's breathing sped up - they couldn't know about what had happened to him in Essos. Yet they'd both made veiled comments before hinting at their knowledge. Shame burned through him; he had never been fit to marry a Queen.
"Sansa won't marry you" said Tyrion, voice shaky "she's much smarter than that"
"Is she? Sansa fears the lords beneath her - and a forced marriage. When I ride to Winterfell to comfort your grieving widow, do you think she'll turn down a friendly face?"
"Arya won't let you take advantage of her sister" said Tyrion, desperation filling his voice
Gawan's face twisted and he absently curled the fingers Arya had damaged "The Queen doesn't listen to her sister. Robin will be the new lord of Winterfell and our business venture will run smoother than ever. No pesky dwarfs causing problems"
"As I told you before Tyrion - it's nothing personal. If it's any comfort; your death will be quick when the time comes" said Robin, holding his arms up in a placating gesture
"Does it have to be?" asked Gawan, pouting slightly "I had plenty of ideas"
"We'll be busy enough with our new slaves Gawan. Let's give the lord of Winterfell some time to accept his fate"
The men walked off and Tyrion sank to the snow covered ground. How could he have let this happen? They were going to use him to hurt Sansa. Bile rose up his throat at the thought.
'I failed another Queen'
Sansa's whole body shook as she awaited her sister's return, her breath coming in short gasps. This was all her fault. Tyrion had left and she'd driven him away.
Both her and Arya had gone to dinner last night and there was no sign of Tyrion. They'd waited until the food was nearly cold and when he still hadn't arrived panic had set in. They'd searched the castle and sent guards to look for him, but there was no sign of her husband anywhere. Arya had gone into the village looking for Tyrion and Sansa had wanted to join her, but her sister had stubbornly refused.
"If someone's taken Tyrion, they might try to take you as well. Just stay here for now, where it's safe. I'll find him Sansa" Arya had promised
Sansa wasn't convinced Tyrion had been taken; after the way she'd treated him it was possible he'd left of his own accord. Whichever it was, Sansa needed to find him. All night she'd been confined to her chambers with guards at the door, but she couldn't bring herself to sleep. The thought of Tyrion leaving because of her sent her stomach into knots; the idea of someone taking her husband was even worse.
It was nearly midday when the door creaked open and Sansa sprung from her chair to find Arya entering the room, head hanging low.
"Well?" she demanded
Arya shook her head "It's not good Sansa…"
Sansa's heart threatened to burst from her chest "Is he…?"
"I think he's been taken"
A small sense of relief flooded Sansa that her sister hadn't found his body, but it was quickly drowned out by fear.
"By who?"
"I don't know" said Arya "We went through the village and spoke to Nessa -"
"Who's Nessa?" asked Sansa, impatience colouring her voice
Arya gave her a strange look "His squire. She said yesterday Tyrion held court, went to the practice yard then went into the village with her to check on the building projects. He took Nessa back to her mother's and said he was going to see Deke"
"The wildling?" guessed Sansa, recalling the name being mentioned at some point
"Yeah. They met at the inn where he was staying and Deke said Tyrion was going back to Winterfell for dinner. The inn keeper and some other small folk saw him heading back this way"
Sansa twisted her hands "You don't think he left…because of me?"
A deep sadness filled Ayra's eyes as she lifted a scrap of dark grey material "I found this on the path back to Winterfell, and there was some blood near it. I think it's from Tyrion's cloak. Alec and I looked all around there and it looks like there were a couple of sets of foot prints heading away from the main path, but it snowed again last night and covered most of the evidence. It was too dark to see any of it last night"
The material was heavy and dark grey - too fine to belong to the small folk. If Arya was right, someone had taken her husband. Sansa squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at the scrap of material any longer.
"This is all my fault" she said, voice breaking
"It's not your fault Sansa. We'll find Tyrion and bring him home - I promise"
Sansa fought to control her emotions. It would be easy to lose herself in guilt and regret, but she couldn't do that when Tyrion was out there alone and in danger. There would be time for that later; when he was safe in her arms and whoever had taken him was dead.
"Send out all the guards and send messages to the other lords near Winterfell. I want my husband back and whoever has taken him brought before me to face justice"
Arya nodded solemnly, determination filling her grey eyes "Right away"
'Hold on Tyrion' thought Sansa 'We're going to find you'
Tyrion leaned back against the post frantically dragging his bound hands up and down the rough wood. It was slow, painful work and the strain on his shoulders was terrible, but Tyrion persevered in the hope of sawing through the rope. Thankfully they weren't guarding him too closely and only a couple of men sat on the benches surrounding the fire, chatting amongst themselves.
As he worked Tyrion glanced towards the barn on his right, calling out softly "Is anyone in there?"
A few moments passed in silence before the wooden panel he'd seen before moved and a young woman's face appeared once more. Her face was covered in grime, but her eyes held a spark of defiance.
"Hello" he said
"I know who you are" said the girl
"My name is Tyrion"
"Aye, you're a Lannister. You married the Queen"
"That's true" he nodded "Who are you?"
"Name's Rose" she said, eyeing him critically
"What happened to you?" said Tyrion, eyes darting between the barn and the guards
"Got taken near the gift, same as most of the girls in here" she spat "they're going to sell us as slaves"
Tyrion's heart twisted "How many of you are there?"
"Reckon there's about forty of us in here. Some been here a lot longer than others"
"Have they hurt you?"
"They barely feed us and keep us in chains like animals, but no they won't damage their 'stock' before they sell us" said Rose, eyes glinting dangerously
"Is there a girl called Callie there?" he asked, heart racing
"Aye, she's only a young one. Scared to death in here" said Rose "What's it to you dwarf?"
"Her grandfather Deke came to Winterfell – he's been helping me search for you all"
The information seemed to surprise Rose, who looked at him sceptically.
"Why would a fancy little lord wanna help us free folk? We aint kneelers"
"No-one deserves to be bought and sold. I promised Deke my help and I intend to keep that promise"
Silence lapsed between them and Tyrion halted his efforts to free his hands, glancing around the area. He'd spent a lot of time looking at the maps of the North and he vaguely recalled seeing an inn on a very old map in the library. It wasn't on any of the newer ones, but if he was correct he had a rough idea where they were.
Tyrion turned his attention to the barn, looking at the half hidden face of the girl "I think I can get you out of here, but I'll need your help"
Rose looked warily at him "If you keep going you'll free yourself eventually. Sneaking away alone would be safer. Trying to save us is risky little lord"
"I won't let them sell you into slavery"
The girl studied him for a moment before nodding "Aye, you have my help. I'd rather die escaping than live in chains"
The sun rose higher in the sky as Tyrion discussed his plan with Rose, learning the routines and positions of the guards while describing how escape was possible. By the time the sun began its descent the broken panel in the barn had been closed and Tyrion's hands were almost free. Rose would explain everything to the other girls held captive with her. Fortunately they were all held in the same place and she had explained to him the routine that usually happened each night, including the number of guards she'd seen over her time there. Now it was a waiting game.
Overall, Tyrion had counted nearly twenty guards around the area with at least twelve horses on one side of the camp. If his plan went wrong the armed guards would easily capture the malnourished women despite their numbers. It was possible Sansa or Arya had sent guards to find him, surely they would have noticed he was missing by now.
'Maybe they won't bother at all'
No. He couldn't think like that. Whether anyone was looking for him or not, he had to help these women.
"Your dinner my lord" said Gawan sauntering across to him. The young lord placed a bowl in front of him, filled with some kind of meat and slop.
"Are you going to feed it to me?" asked Tyrion, indicating his bound hands
Gawan only grinned "You can eat it like the tame little lion you are. Go on"
Tyrion didn't respond, leaning back against the post. No matter how hungry he got there was no way he would humiliate Sansa any further by eating like a dog from a bowl.
The young lord's grin faded as he got no response "I said eat"
"Not hungry"
Gawan crouched down next to Tyrion grabbing the back of his head sending a sharp pain through him as he put pressure against the wound from yesterday. The young lord bent Tyrion forwards while he struggled against him, but it was no use as Gawan quickly overpowered him.
"You will eat" ground out Gawan, pushing Tyrion's head down towards the bowl
His face was forced into the rancid food as he squirmed to free himself, but Gawan's grip only tightened - holding him in place. Tyrion was finding it difficult to breathe and his head was aching at the pressure. Despite his resolve, survival took over and Tyrion's mouth opened taking a bite out of the food.
"Good boy" praised Gawan, refusing to let him up "now swallow"
To his shame Tyrion swallowed the vile slop and Gawan finally pulled his head back up from the bowl, laughing at him and the food that covered his face.
Footsteps approached and a guard appeared smirking at the sight of Tyrion, before addressing Gawan "Lord Robin wants to see you to go over the plans, m'lord"
"Duty calls" said Gawan with a sigh, rising to his feet "enjoy your dinner lord Lannister"
Tyrion's body shook when the men were out of sight. How low had he fallen - reduced to eating like an animal. Ned Stark or even Robb Stark would not have caved so easily, yet once again Tyrion had shown his true self and it disgusted him.
Leaning back against the post the corners of Tyrion's mouth twitched upwards slightly. Humiliating as the experience had been, Gawan had just made his plan much easier. Tyrion twisted the small knife in his fingers; swiped from the cruel boy's belt as he tormented him. He had no idea why the young lord needed so many weapons but he doubted he would miss this one.
"Rose" he called softly, waiting for the wooden panel to move back. As her face appeared, Tyrion twisted the knife in his hands so she could see it.
A wicked smile spread over her face "That'll help"
Thankfully he was quite close to the barn, and managed to twist his hands enough to throw the blade towards Rose. The rope around his own hands had loosened considerably from his efforts but it wouldn't be safe to free himself until it was darker.
"You've told everyone the plan?" he asked, as she pushed her head through the gap pulling the blade the rest of the way into the barn.
"Aye little lion, when you move we will be ready" said Rose, replacing the panel to set about her own work.
The light of the day was slowly fading as the cold wind picked up, chilling him. He huddled in on himself, trying to stay warm. His plan was very risky and would rely a lot on luck, though getting the knife had certainly helped. As soon as night fell he would strike.
Arya was exhausted as night started to fall. All day they'd searched for any sign of Tyrion or who could have taken him but their efforts had been useless. She was certain he'd been taken though they had no idea why or who could have done it. Arya and Alec had led the search, going over every inch of the villages surrounding Winterfell hoping to find some clue.
"Lady Arya, we'll have to call it a night soon" said Alec, bringing his horse to trot alongside hers "The terrain is far too dangerous to search at night"
"I know" said Arya with a sigh "doesn't mean I like it though"
"None of us do. I've sent a few men to the local villages in case they hear word of Tyrion's whereabouts"
Arya surveyed the landscape one last time, before reluctantly turning her horse back towards Winterfell
"Why would anyone take Tyrion? He doesn't bother anyone" said Cayn, eyes downcast as they regrouped
"To hurt the Queen" said Brice, face tightening "Cause he's a Lannister. He's the lord of Winterfell. Plenty of reasons"
"We'll find him" said Lyle, nudging his brother "Tyrion's smart, he'll be ok until we rescue him"
Arya smiled at their determination. She hated having to stop the search but Alec was right and wandering blindly through the dark would do them no good, as much as it felt like they were giving up.
Thankfully Alec took charge "Get some rest and we're back out again at first light. Tomorrow we'll expand the search outside of Winterfell"
They made their way back towards the castle, other guards and search parties joining them. Sansa had been sending ravens all day urging the other lords and ladies of the North to join the search. Her older sister was putting on a mask of calm but Arya could see she was terrified. She didn't relish having to tell Sansa they were no closer to finding him than they were last night; her sister was clearly blaming herself for Tyrion's disappearance.
Urging her horse onwards, Arya fiddled with needle at her side. Bran's letter from the day before replayed in her mind; family, duty, honour.
Had Bran known this was going to happen? Was he trying to prepare them for this? Her stomach twisted at the thought. Bran was certainly different now but he was still her brother; he wouldn't let anything happen to Tyrion…
Arya shook her head, clearing the thoughts. If Sansa hadn't already written to Bran she would write and ask for his help. Perhaps with his three-eyed raven abilities he could find Tyrion.
Tyrion watched the last of the guards disappear into the farmhouse, leaving only two men on guard duty. One was positioned in front of the barn, though he had his back to it, edging closer to the fire. The other man was across the camp sat on a stack of crates near the stables. The set up was exactly as Rose had described and no other measures had been put in place for Tyrion's arrival. Since Gawan's dinner time visit he'd been completely ignored and Tyrion hadn't done anything to draw attention to himself.
He had to admit Robin and Gawan had set up a tidy operation and it had clearly been running smoothly for many weeks; though he suspected Robin was the brains behind it. Gawan was little more than a mad dog. Fortunately for Tyrion, the young lords' success at hiding their business had made them complacent. Leaving only two guards to watch over forty women and him was sheer arrogance, born from a lack of experience. Though Robin had said they were keeping him alive for now, he wasn't entirely sure how long they expected him to last, sitting in the snow outside all night. Already he was shivering from the cold, despite his cloak and heavy clothes.
Tyrion leaned back against the post once more, straining the rope as he sawed up and down. A short time later the rope fell away and his hands were free. Sitting forward, Tyrion stiffly moved his raw and bleeding wrists in front of him, wincing at the sight. The first problem was the guard by the barn. Moving to the broken panel, Tyrion tapped twice and it was quickly pulled aside revealing Rose - a huddle of frightened eyes stared back at him from behind her. Wordlessly, Rose passed him back the small knife he'd stolen and Tyrion returned to his position by the post, loosely covering his wrists with the broken strands of rope behind his back.
"Guard!" called Tyrion, voice shaking "Guard, help!"
It wasn't hard to fake the desperation in his voice; if his plan went wrong who knew how many of the women could die.
"Oi, what you shouting about?" said the guard, rounding the corner from in front of the barn
Tyrion shivered violently, leaning against the post. The guard was a young man with a broken mess of a nose spread over his face. The guard bent down next to him, grabbing a fistful of his tunic and straightening him up.
"Come..." stuttered Tyrion
"What you babbling about imp?" said the man leaning closer to Tyrion
In one swift movement, Tyrion thrust his right hand upwards shoving the knife through the guard's throat. Blood splattered over him as the young man fell to the ground, a pool of red rapidly spreading around the body. A horrible guilt settled over Tyrion as he watched him die; once again he was a monster.
"Tyrion" urged Rose, having moved the panel aside "are we set?"
He nodded, pushing the dead body off him and creeping towards the front of the barn. As he'd predicted the night was too dark and the other guard too far away to have noticed anything was amiss. They would still need to move quickly before anyone did notice – it would only take someone to come out of the farmhouse or the other guard to wander over and they would be caught.
Hurrying back to the panel, Tyrion crouched down next to the gap "No-one's noticed, we need to move quickly though"
Since Tyrion had given her the knife after dinner Rose had worked tirelessly to free herself and the rest of the girls from their restraints. It was a small blessing that they were fed so little and generally left alone in the barn; it had given them time to quietly work towards escape.
The broken panel left a gap too small to climb through but with both Tyrion and the women on the other side pushing, they managed to break the adjacent panel enough for the women to slither out through the gap.
"Quickly and quietly" he urged as Rose appeared beside him. She was older than he'd first though but no more than thirty. She looked dirty and underfed, but her face was alive with energy as she led the other prisoners to escape. His eyes lingered on the black collar fastened around her neck.
He swallowed before speaking "I'm sorry you've all been here so long. I sent some of the Winterfell guard out to the gift, but I fear it was too little too late"
"Not your fault little lion. We aint kneelers so we don't get protection like other folks" said the wildling with a shrug
He turned away from the barn, unable to stomach the sight of the frightened young girls with slave collars fastened around their necks. His niece Myrcella had been a similar age to these girls the last time he saw her and the thought of her ever being subject to the same treatment sent a shudder through him. Instead Tyrion made his way over to the man he killed, removing the sword from his waist. It was longer and heavier than the one he trained with but it did bring him some comfort. One by one the girls emerged, disappearing quietly into the Wolfswood. Tyrion kept lookout while Rose oversaw the escape, his body tingling with nerves. They were so close, but there was still a lot that could go wrong.
Returning to Rose he whispered "Are they all certain of where to go?"
"Aye, they all know" she said "I paired up the young ones and the village girls with the few older free folk. They'll look after them"
A young girl with scraggy brown hair scrambled out of the barn, glancing shyly at Tyrion before running into the Wolfswood.
"That one's Callie" said Rose, pointing to her as she followed an older woman into the trees "told her you know her grandfather"
"She's so young - and she's been held here for weeks" said Tyrion, eyes downcast. The girl was little more than a child, stolen away from her home and family to be sold like an animal. His own time as a slave had been brief and brutal; giving him great sympathy with Daenerys' mission to abolish slavery. Familiar guilt burned through him at her memory. No matter what she'd become at the end, Tyrion knew she'd had a good heart. Daenerys had genuinely wanted to help people, if not for the madness that consumed her she would have been a good Queen.
'You killed her' his mind whispered 'If you'd been a better friend she might have listened to you'
The last few girls were making there way out of the barn when Tyrion spotted a light in the distance. Three men had emerged from the farmhouse, a flaming torch in hand.
"Oi, Todd!" shouted one of the men, and panic gripped Tyrion. They were looking towards the barn; for the guard he'd killed.
Rushing back towards Rose, he whispered urgently passing the small knife to her "We have to go, they're coming"
Together they pulled the last girl free and moved into the cover of the Wolfswood. A group of women were disappearing into the distance following the directions he'd told them but it would all be for nothing if they were followed. There were five of them in the last group; Tyrion, Rose and three young girls. His body tingled with nerves as they broke into a run, Rose leading the way through the trees.
"They're getting away!"
"Get the rest of the men"
Tyrion's heart pounded frantically as the shouts echoed through the darkness. Moments later the sound of branches breaking behind them forced them to run faster. Glancing behind him as he moved Tyrion made out three dark shapes gaining on them - one ahead of the others. It would take time for the rest of the guards to wake and join the pursuit but they couldn't risk being caught by these men. A young red-headed girl running beside him stumbled over a branch, tumbling to a halt in the darkness. Tyrion wasted no time grabbing her hand and urging her to her feet. They'd taken only a few steps when the girl was jerked to a halt in his grip.
"Where are you going?" panted the man, a sadistic grin covering his face as he dragged the girl backwards
"No, no, no..." she chanted as her captor pulled her away
Dark, terrified eyes locked onto his and Tyrion tightened his grip on her hand. Rather than trying to pull her free, he pushed himself towards her thrusting his sword past the girl and straight through her captor's stomach.
"Go!" he said, shoving the girl behind him.
Rose had reappeared at his side grasping the girl's hand and urging her on as the other two men burst through the trees.
Tyrion turned towards Rose who now had the three girls in front of her hurrying them down a path. She looked imploringly at him, and Tyrion gently shook his head. He knew what he had to do. The wildling lingered a moment longer, before disappearing into the trees as the other men charged towards him.
"The imp killed him, Duke" said a young man, eyeing the body of his fallen comrade with increasing panic
The second man wasted no time drawing his own sword and striking at Tyrion. He recognised him immediately as one of his kidnappers; pointy face. Raising his sword, he awkwardly deflected the blow before lashing out at the man apparently called Duke. This sword was longer and heavier than what he trained with but the hours of practice had given him some kind of survival instinct. Duke staggered away avoiding Tyrion's strike as the young man drew his own weapon, closing in on Tyrion's right side.
"Go after the slaves Walt" ordered Duke, smirking at Tyrion "I can handle the dwarf"
Walt hesitated for a second and it was all Tyrion needed. Ignoring the man in front of him he quickly changed targets, swinging the sword low and to his right severing the young man's right leg at the knee. An inhuman shriek filled the night as Walt dropped to the ground, clutching at the stump.
"My...leg..." he howled, staring at the limb in disbelief
Horror flashed in Duke's eyes before anger distorted his face "You'll pay for that, you little monster!"
Tyrion raised his sword to block the furious blows but found himself struggling under the onslaught. The cries of the man he'd maimed echoed through the forest and he found it difficult to focus on his current battle; he paid for it a moment later when his opponent's sword sliced his upper left arm causing him to stumble backwards. Blood poured from the injury, soaking his sleeve as Tyrion raised his sword to deflect the next strike. He couldn't risk the women being caught again; he had to give them a chance. Only the three men who'd followed them could have seen which direction the girls had fled in and Tyrion couldn't allow them to tell anyone else.
Fury was driving Duke as he threw wild, powerful attacks at Tyrion. Any of the strikes would be the death of him; his only chance would be to surprise his attacker. Steel clashed as Tyrion blocked a strike at his head, stepping inwards to drag the sword across his attacker's stomach. The blade sliced into the man drawing a long line of blood, but he'd managed to avoid the worst of the blow.
The man looked at his wound in disbelief, before pointing his sword at Tyrion "I'm gonna kill you slow, imp"
Tyrion panted, shoulders shaking as he stood opposite Duke. Walt's shouts of pain had turned to sobs as he bled out on the ground. Torches glowed in the distance - it would only be a matter of minutes before they were surrounded, and Tyrion was absolutely exhausted. His left arm ached from the injury and his body seemed to grow weaker by the second. It was too much; he wasn't a fighter and he never had been. Jamie could have easily cut through these men, even without his sword hand. So could Arya; despite her size she was an excellent fighter.
The memory of their sparring the other night came to mind and an idea took root. It was stupid, but he was rapidly running out of time. Standing side on Tyrion loosened his grip on his sword, letting the point drop downwards. Sensing the easy kill, the man lunged forwards slashing down to take his head. At the same time Tyrion threw himself towards his attacker, whipping the blade up and through the man's throat. Blood sprayed over him as he stumbled away from the dead man. While his sword skills would never amount to much, Tyrion knew he was a quick learner. Sparring for so long with Arya had given him an up close look at her water dancing and its unpredictable style. She used it to great effect against larger opponents and it had certainly saved him tonight.
"Over there!"
The shout came as the first reinforcements made their way into the forest. Pushing through his exhaustion, Tyrion ran towards the man he'd maimed. Despite the horrific injury Walt was still clinging to life - but there could be no opportunities for him to tell the others which direction the girls had gone in. Raising the sword as he approached the dying man, Tyrion severed his head in one quick strike; the weapon dropping from his numb hands as soon as it was done.
"By the Gods" said one of the men as they swarmed around him "the imp killed Walt!"
"More bodies over here!"
"Let me at the little bastard"
"Rip him to pieces"
"No! The lords will want him alive" spoke an older voice as the men swarmed around him; ready to avenge their fallen comrades "spread out and look for the slaves. You two get the dwarf"
Tyrion didn't resist as the guards fell on top of him, rough hands twisting his arms painfully behind his back and holding him upright. He'd done what he could to save the girls, and four men were now dead by his hand; their blood painting his Northern clothes in Lannister red.
He was so tired. His vision was already dimming when a fist smashed into the side of his face, turning his world black.
Sansa lifted her needlework project, the glow of the hearth illuminating her work. She couldn't bring herself to sleep. Arya had come in not long ago informing her the search hadn't been successful and would need to continue in the morning. Her sister had looked thoroughly miserable about it, but Sansa understood why they couldn't search through the night. She was the Queen she had to understand these things; no matter how much she wanted to ride out of Winterfell and find her husband.
Sansa's hands trembled as she stitched the lion onto Tyrion's tunic. All day she'd been stuck in Winterfell waiting for news, guilt slowly eating away at her demeanour of forced calm. In desperation she'd returned to her room searching for something that reminded her of Tyrion, only to discover her husband was a ghost. When they'd married Sansa had cleared out some draws for his use and she opened them to find several sets of clothes and nothing else.
'Why are you surprised? He came to Winterfell with nothing but the clothes on his back'
Surely there was some trace of her husband in their room? Sansa had looked for anything, only to discover there was nothing because Tyrion spent so little time there. There was no Lannister red or gold, nothing with his lion sigil, nothing that showed he even lived there. Eventually she'd pulled out some of his work, finding a stack of paperwork he'd been in the middle of. Hope had risen in her that she would perhaps find the lion seal he surely used for letters. Instead she found a seal marked with a simple 'W' and a pot of Stark grey wax.
The Queen in the North had confronted Maester Wolkan about it, demanding to know why her husband didn't have his own seal.
"I was going to arrange for one to be made, but lord Tyrion refused. Instead he uses a simple W for Winterfell. I suggested he might prefer to use your direwolf sigil if not his own, but he refused that as well"
"Why would he do that?" she demanded, throat tightening
The Maester had looked at her with pity "I believe lord Tyrion is quite troubled, your Grace - and he has been since he arrived"
Sansa refused to believe it - but why wouldn't he want to use his lion sigil? He'd always seemed proud to be a Lannister. Now she sat by the hearth, refusing to use her empty bed as she stitched a lion onto Tyrion's tunic. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but Sansa refused to let them fall. They would find Tyrion and everything would be ok. It had to be…
Awareness returned slowly to Tyrion and with it came the petulant face of Gawan Glover towering over him. His face ached and the slice across his arm burned as he lay on the cold, snow covered ground.
"Haven't you been naughty" he said, face splitting into a grin as he straightened up "The lord of Winterfell awakens at last"
Tyrion's head was still swimming as he was jerked upright; a guard gripping each of his arms. He'd been brought back to the farmhouse and now stood before Robin and Gawan by the benches. The lord of Widows Watch had his usual smug smile on his face, but his eyes betrayed him – glinting dangerously as the first rays of light appeared in the sky. It must have been no more than a couple of hours since he was recaptured in the Wolfswood, but glancing around the area he saw no sign of the women.
"We've not caught them yet" said Robin, following his gaze "but we will. They're far too weak to evade our men, and the riders have gone out on horses now too. You've caused a bit of a nuisance, but it will only be temporary"
"He butchered four of our men" growled the man to Tyrion's right, digging his fingers painfully into his arm
Robin shrugged "Not much of a loss if they couldn't beat a little runt like him"
Gawan was bouncing up and down in a way that made Tyrion nervous. The cruel boy was far too happy for someone whose business had just been ruined "Since you escaped, we're tightening security on you"
"Yes" agreed Robin, glancing at Tyrion "Strip him to the waist"
Tyrion squirmed as Gawan approached him with a knife, cutting his blood soaked clothes away from him.
"What are you doing?" said Tyrion trying to curl in on himself, as the cold Northern air hit his exposed skin
"It appears the Queen wants her pet lion back. The whole of Winterfell has been searching for you and it's only a matter of time before they come looking in the Wolfswood. Your blood soaked clothes and a bit of golden hair will soon appear far away from here, leading the search elsewhere" said Robin, smirking as Gawan grabbed his head and hacked off a handful of hair
"Would killing me not be easier?" said Tyrion, embarrassment burning through him as he stood half naked before the lords
"Can't yet" said Robin waving his hand "your death needs to be blamed on someone and all the pieces aren't in place at the moment. So you'll remain our guest – under stricter observation this time"
Gawan moved from in front of the bench as the guards on either side of Tyrion lifted him in the air forcing him on top of it, the rough wood pressing into his chest.
"Look at his back" said Gawan prodding him as he laughed "someone's taught him a lesson"
Shame rose through Tyrion as the men laughed at the scars across his back. He tried to wriggle free, but the men's grip was unyielding as a thick piece of leather was wrapped around his neck. The horrible sensation of being choked went through him, but Tyrion couldn't escape from it.
"Going into the slave trade, we did our research. Imagine our surprise at the rumours the Dragon Queen's hand was bought and sold as a slave. A proud and mighty lion of Casterly Rock sold at an auction in chains" said Robin, leaning closer as the collar was tightened, digging deeply into Tyrion's neck "We told Sansa but she wouldn't hear of it – those scars on your back prove it though. Flogging is a pretty standard punishment for slaves. What did you do to earn it I wonder?"
Had Sansa heard the rumours about him? She'd never asked him; probably believing it was lies. She would surely shun him if she knew it was all true. Tyrion kept his mouth shut but his head was side on against the bench forcing him to look at Robin. The young lord's face was trying to remain neutral but the amusement in his eyes betrayed him - he was enjoying this as much as Gawan.
"Don't want to tell me? That's fine" said Robin, clicking his fingers "Now, since you escaped your last restraints, we can't risk you taking your collar off. I'd hold still if I were you"
Gawan's grinning face came into view with a small pot of heated metal held in a long clamp. Tyrion's heart sped up as the cruel boy brought the boiling material near his face, heat prickling against his skin.
"I could melt your face with this" he said, tilting it towards him "burn your eyes, dip your fingers in and watch them melt - but I have other orders"
Gawan moved the pot behind him and a moment later heat prickled against his neck. Tyrion fought to control his breathing, awaiting the agony that would surely follow. When it didn't, he realised what they were doing. The metal was being poured on to the collar effectively sealing it shut, though a few splashes dripped against his skin burning him. He grimaced against the pain and the realisation the collar would not come off unless it was cut, and it's tightness to his neck made even that incredibly difficult.
"Doesn't that look good?" said Gawan in his ear, patting his back as he finished
"Well now that's been dealt with" said Robin, pulling a piece of paper from his tunic "I need your advice on something Tyrion. Since you're the lord of Winterfell I'm sure you'd be happy to help"
The guards holding him continued to press him against the wooden bench top and Tyrion had no other option but to look as what appeared to be a drawing was held in front of his face. The picture was of a circle with several curved and straight lines going throu-
Searing agony shot through his left shoulder as the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Tyrion writhed on the bench, clamping his mouth shut to stop his screams. He was powerless to escape as the iron seemed to melt into his back. The branding lasted only seconds but to Tyrion it could have been a lifetime. Laughter rang out around him when it was done, leaving him shaking on the bench.
"Now you'll never forget what you are" said Gawan as blood filled Tyrion's mouth from biting his tongue "Thought you'd have screamed Lannister"
Robin grinned as Tyrion's heart thudded painfully against his chest "Took that like a proper little lord of Winterfell. I'm sure Sansa would be proud"
'Sansa, I'm so sorry' thought Tyrion inhaling a shuddering breath 'I failed you again'
"Aren't you going to say thank you?" said Gawan, running a grimy hand through Tyrion's hair as if he was petting a dog "The brand is a lot bigger than I expected but you're only small"
Tyrion squeezed his eyes shut at the burning ache in his shoulder - and his heart. He could never go back to Winterfell now. He'd humiliated Sansa and Arya by allowing this to happen. The thought of the revulsion he would surely see in Sansa's eyes was more than he could handle.
"Look at me" commanded Robin, gripping his chin and squeezing until Tyrion's eyes opened "I told you at the start this wasn't personal, and it isn't - but you stole Gawan's fun. Those slaves are getting shipped off to Essos in a few days and they were going to be branded today, so letting him practice on you seemed a reasonable punishment"
Gawan sat on the bench beside Robin, his face beaming "Some slavers use tattoos to identify their slaves but we figured branding was much more efficient. They all come out the same and it's great fun. Didn't you enjoy that?"
A flicker of amusement passed over Robin's face at his friend's enthusiasm, replaced quickly by a cruel smile "When the slaves are brought back they will be marked as property - like you, and I'll make sure you watch every single branding"
"He's used to being property" laughed Gawan, as Tyrion's heart cracked to pieces "He's just changed owner - from Sansa to us"
"The Queen was rather proud of her little lion" said Robin, corners of his mouth twitching downwards "she snubbed every young, strong Northman in favour of you. And now look at the Queen's husband; the mighty lord of Winterfell"
Tyrion didn't resist as he was pulled up from the bench and dragged away; any fight draining out of him. Sansa had trusted him and he'd failed. Just like he'd failed Jamie, Daenerys, Varys and everyone else he'd ever cared about.
'I'm so sorry Sansa'
