A/N - This chapter took a while but in my defence it's really long. Let me know what you think!
Chapter 17
Sansa tossed and turned in the chair, hands clenching into fists as dark dreams haunted her sleep.
She was trapped in her room at Winterfell, waiting for Ramsay to come to her. He always came. Every night was different, yet the same. The fact he used her and hurt her never changed, though each night taught her a different way to experience it.
"Hello wife" called Ramsay, slamming the door behind him with finality
Sansa sat by the unused hearth; a prisoner in her own home.
"You should greet your husband after a hard day's work" he said, approaching her with that stupid grin across his face
Sansa shuddered at his approach "Hello, Ramsay"
"That's better. Now take your clothes off"
Cold, cruel eyes stared at Sansa as her body froze. She couldn't do it. Her breathing sped up. Ramsay would force her anyway; he always did.
"Let me help you" he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the bed. His fingers dug into her arm as she was once again forced to lie on her stomach across the bed. Her stomach rolled, at the sound of clothes tearing behind her.
"Please, no" said Sansa, voice breaking. She hated this so much. He bedded her like a dog. At first she'd though it was always like this, until he started bringing Miranda into their bed and forcing her to watch them. Then she knew it didn't have to be like this.
"What you want doesn't matter" hissed Ramsay in her ear as the cold of the room tickled her exposed skin "You're mine to do with as I like"
Ramsay slammed into her from behind as Sansa clung to the bed, a sob building in her throat.
Her world turned, changing the images. She was still in bed, but this time she was on top, pinning someone beneath her as she moved herself up and down in a rhythm. It was different now, she had the power; it was intoxicating.
"I promised to never hurt you" whispered a heartbroken voice
Sansa looked down to find Tyrion lying beneath her, green eyes watery and filled with hurt.
"Tyrion, I-" she started, horror filing her
"This is duty" he said, eyes downcast "I understand"
Sansa reached down to touch his face, but her hand went through him as if he were a ghost.
"I'm sorry" she said, tears running down her face "Tyrion, please don't go"
"You deserve better"
"No. I'm so sorry! Stay, please"
Sobs wracked Sansa as she tried to touch him, until a growing pool of red caught her eye. Her body shook as her eyes traced the source, looking down to find Tyrion covered in blood beneath her. The sticky redness extended from him, spreading across the bed.
"Tyrion, stay with me!" she begged, as his image grew fainter "We'll fix this…I'll get help. Please, don't go"
Sansa's eyes darted around the room, frantically searching for help.
"You can't save me" he said, resignation on his face as he faded to nothing beneath her
"Tyrion!" she screamed, tears coursing down her face "No…no….please!"
Sansa woke with a start, dislodging the needlework in her lap that landed with a thud on the ground. Her chest heaved as she sucked in breath after breath, her heart pounding painfully against her chest. Just a dream, she told herself. A nightmare; it wasn't real. The hearth still burned lightly beside her and Sansa realised she'd fallen asleep in the chair. The bed had been unused since Tyrion was taken.
Fear and guilt fought for dominance in her emotions. Reg's words from the interrogation haunted her. The man had been convinced whoever had Tyrion was hurting him. Then there was her own guilt for treating her husband so poorly. While it may have been a dream it had been inspired by her own memories of Ramsay's cruelty - and her own.
Sansa settled into the chair once more, retrieving her needlework project. The golden lion was taking shape in the centre of the design and she traced her fingers gently over the thread.
'I miss you' she thought, dampness gathering in the corner of her eyes. She wouldn't cry; Queens couldn't cry.
'Go away inside. They can't hurt you there'
Tyrion tried to heed the advice his brother had given him in childhood. He'd never been particularly good at his brother's coping mechanism but staring into the manic eyes of Gawan Glover he found himself willing to give it another chance.
"Where should I cut you first?" he said, waving the knife in front of Tyrion's chest
It was late in the night when Tyrion had awoken to Gawan crouching over him, humming the Rains of Castamere. The tune was haunting at the best of the times, but particularly so when a deranged boy with a knife was eyeing you like a piece of meat. He'd always hated that song; it epitomised his family's cruelty and nothing else. It was snowing outside the stable and Tyrion shuddered against the biting cold. The boy had brought a torch with him that now sat in a holder to one side, casting some meagre warmth into the stall as it bathed it in an orange light. The effect was unsettling as it gave Gawan an eerie, monstrous appearance.
'He's just a spoilt, cruel boy – like Joffrey' thought Tyrion, fixing his face into a look of disinterest
"You've had your fun Lannister. Now tell me where the slaves are hiding. You're running out of time to save yourself some pain" said Gawan, tracing the tip of the knife lazily over Tyrion's exposed chest
"Isn't it past your bed time?" said Tyrion, voice coming out much weaker than he intended
Gawan's grin turned to a sneer "I know where I'll start"
Tyrion couldn't escape as Gawan clamped a hand around his upper left arm, digging his knife into the slash wound he'd received in the wolfswood. He gritted his teeth as the knife sliced through his skin extending the injury. Warmth spread down his arm as fresh blood leaked from the gash, dripping onto his breeches and the ground beneath him.
His tormentor pulled back as Tyrion sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the red that spread over him. How much longer could this go on? He hadn't wanted to be lord of Winterfell – he didn't deserve the title at all, but he was the lord and his duty was to protect its people. He wouldn't tell Gawan or Robin anything; no matter how much it hurt.
The heir to Deepwood Motte looked rather displeased. His mouth formed a tight line as he waved the blood soaked knife in front of Tyrion. The lack of reaction was clearly bothering Gawan and Tyrion had no intention of giving him one.
"You're making this difficult dwarf" said Gawan "I might need to take more extreme measures"
"As you wish" said Tyrion leaning his pounding head back against the wall
"Think I'll cut your cock off"
The words sent a whole new terror crashing through Tyrion as his heart slammed against his chest.
'Go away inside. Go away inside' he thought, a cold sweat forming on his back.
"Maybe your balls instead" mused Gawan, tracing the edge of the knife lightly over his breeches searching for his prize "or maybe both. Weren't you friends with the eunuch? You could be one too"
Gods, the boy was going to mutilate him. Tyrion forced his body to stay still, refusing to react as Gawan edged the tip of his knife into the laces of his breeches. Further on the blade went until Tyrion felt the very tip of the weapon against his cock.
"Where are the slaves?" asked Gawan, halting the knife's descent "I could send your bits to Sansa as a wedding gift when she marries Robin. Do you think she'd like that? Think how smooth you'll be down there when those pesky bits are gone"
The agony that had enveloped Tyrion's body all day faded away as every fibre of his being became focused on the knife hovering on the edge of his manhood. The steel was cold against his skin as the point of the blade pricked him; a promise of the pain to come. A single thrust would alter his life forever.
The stalemate crept on, each waiting for the other to break.
Tyrion dared not move or breathe, as his mind struggled to come to terms with the impending mutilation. He became aware of the knife moving and braced for the agony that was sure to follow. Instead, the knife moved out of his breeches and the cold steel was pressed against his face instead.
"Maybe not. Just the thought of getting that close to your dirty little cock makes me nauseous" said Gawan, wrinkling his nose "Did Sansa throw up at the sight of you naked? Stunted little monster"
Tyrion let out a breath even as Gawan grabbed a fistful of his hair, pushing his head tight to the wall. Sansa had wanted children; if Gawan had carried through on his threat he'd have been useless to her. He swallowed hard thinking of Sansa. It wouldn't have made any difference really; he would never see Sansa again and it was probably for the best she didn't have his children. Although, as the knife had entered his breeches, Tyrion had been unexpectedly grieved at the possibility of never being a father. It wasn't something he'd ever wanted until the chance was nearly taken from him. Had Varys ever wanted to be a father? He wondered if his old friend would have laughed at Tyrion suffering the same fate - particularly after the ball jokes he'd once made. He doubted it. Varys had never mocked him; he would likely be horrified at someone else suffering the same mutilation as him.
"I thought interrogating you would be much easier" said Gawan, brandishing the knife in front of Tyrion's face "Figured one taste of real pain would have you begging for mercy. Your defiance is becoming a problem. It's a very undesirable quality in a pet you know"
"I'm not your pet" said Tyrion, trying and failing to free his head from Gawan's grasp.
A grin split Gawan's face "The collar around your neck and my brand on your back tells a very different story. As a responsible owner it's my duty to teach you your place"
The knife slid against his face, still slick with blood from his arm.
"That's an interesting scar you have across the face. Bet it hurt a lot" said Gawan, face curling "I could give you a matching one on the other side, even up your appearance"
'Go away inside' commanded Jamie's voice
Tyrion tried to draw back from the knife as it teased the skin above his right eye. Gawan's grip tightened on his head, pinning him in place even as he withdrew the blade.
"Then again - why settle for a copy over the original?"
The tip of the knife descended into the scar over Tyrion's left eye, and the boy drew the knife downwards as slowly as possible. As his old wound was reopened, Tyrion tried desperately to ignore the pain that wracked his body. Surely he couldn't survive much longer? He was only a small man; his body would give out soon. He wasn't strong and powerful like Jamie or Jorah. His big brother had survived months as the Stark's prisoner of war, yet Tyrion had barely survived a few days with a couple of stupid boys.
The sun was only just rising when Arya woke to a knock on her door. Already a light sleeper, she rolled quickly out of bed; instantly alert.
"Who's there?"
"Lady Arya…it's me" sniffed a small voice
The tension drained from Arya and she opened the door to find Nessa staring up at her with big, teary eyes.
"Sorry to bother you Lady Arya…I just wondered if you'd found Tyrion yet"
Arya's heart twisted at the sight of the girl. Since he'd disappeared Nessa had looked totally lost wandering around Winterfell. Her mood seemed to alternate between hopeful of finding Tyrion and grief-stricken they hadn't.
"Not yet" said Arya, bending down to match the girls height "But we're going to search the Wolfswood today"
"Do you think Tyrion's ok?"
It was such an innocent question. Arya loathed killing her hope, but if he wasn't alright Nessa should be prepared. It was clear to everyone except Tyrion how much the girl adored him.
"I'm not sure Nessa" she said evenly "but I know he'll be doing his best to hang on until we rescue him"
The girl looked at her with sad eyes "Can I come with you? Tyrion says I'm clever - I could help"
"You'd be a great help, but I need your help here more" said Arya, smiling at her
"I'll do anything" she said, nodding eagerly
"You've been my eyes and ears in the village, looking for anything suspicious. It's really important you keep doing that"
Nessa deflated at being assigned the same task she'd been carrying out since Tyrion disappeared, but there wasn't much else she could do to help.
"Okay" said Nessa with a small nod "Everyone in the village is looking out for him too. I keep checking with them to see if there's any news"
"Good" said Arya, mussing the girl's hair as she straightened up "When we find Tyrion, I'll let you know straight away - but he might not be able to see you for a little while"
Arya was in no doubt Tyrion had been hurt by his captors. The man she'd interrogated hadn't given details of what had been done, but he hadn't been lying either - no matter how much Sansa wanted to believe his words were false.
"He's hurt, isn't he?" asked Nessa, face crumpling
The quickness of the girl surprised Arya, cutting through her attempts to soften her words. She was clever for her age, and Arya had no doubt who'd been teaching her to use her intelligence.
"We won't know until we find him, but he'll definitely need some rest when he gets back"
"Tyrion doesn't like sleep" said Nessa, solemnly "he says he doesn't like his dreams"
Bran observed his small council. It wasn't complete yet, but it was heading in the right direction. Ser Davos occupied the hand's chair at the top of the table with Ser Bronn to his right and Ser Brienne to his left. Ser Podrick was behind Bran, having pushed his wheelchair into the room. Grand Maester Samwell Tarly was absent as Bran had requested – this didn't concern him after all.
"Sit down Ser Podrick, this matter concerns you too"
The young man looked startled but dutifully sat next to Brienne, as Bran's gaze swept over them.
"I gave orders that none of you were to communicate with Tyrion Lannister following his exile" he said, watching them each in turn "Yet I've intercepted communication intended for him"
Silence reigned in the chamber, the King's council exchanging uncertain looks.
"It was me, your Grace. I wrote to Lord Tyrion and sent him some books" said Pod, redness colouring his face
"You admit to it readily?"
"I do, your Grace. I'll accept whatever punishment you see fit" said Pod head hanging low
Ser Davos and Ser Brienne exchanged glances before sighing.
"If you punish Pod, you must also punish me, your Grace" said Brienne, eyes holding Bran's gaze "I wrote to him as well and sent him some of Jamie's things I recovered from the wreckage. As lord commander it is unacceptable to disobey your order"
"I'm also guilty" said Ser Davos, tapping his hand against the table "Wrote to him and sent him a cloak. It's bloody cold up North"
"I see" said Bran, taking in the various looks of shame that crossed their faces. He knew what they'd done already – Samwell Tarly had discovered the messages addressed to Tyrion and brought them to his attention after all. The grand Maester was oblivious of who had sent them, but then he wasn't Tyrion's friend and writing to a man he barely knew wouldn't have crossed his mind.
Ser Bronn leaned back in his chair eyeing them with amusement "You lot should be ashamed. Disobeying King Bran when he made it clear he didn't want none of us talking to the little shit"
"Any of us" muttered Ser Davos, shooting the Master of Coin a glare
Bran turned his gaze to Ser Bronn "You've not written to your old friend?"
"Absolutely not"
"He barely knows how to write" added Brienne, voice filled with contempt
"You'd be surprised what I know" said Bronn
Ser Davos sighed "I can't judge a man for his education. A little girl taught me to read"
"Nah, you just correct the way I talk" said Bronn with a snort
The King's face remained neutral; as much as their bickering amused him "I believe Ser Bronn did not write to Tyrion"
Bronn spread his hands "Well, there you have it"
"But you do have your men at the Twins searching everyone who wishes to cross. You gave them orders to look out for a dwarf with a scarred face"
Bronn shifted in his chair "Well he's banished from the six kingdoms - can't have him sneaking back in"
"How dutiful of you" said Bran, smiling serenely "Tell me Ser Bronn; did you send him that dagger out of duty too?"
Bronn crossed his arms defensively "What? It's dangerous up North. A bear could try an eat him - gotta give the poor sod a chance. I'd hate for your poor sister to be a widow again"
Brienne snorted "You'd have us believe it was all for Sansa? How selfless of you"
"You were condemning us and you're just as guilty" said Davos, jabbing a finger at him
Bronn threw his hands up "Guess my head will be on a spike with the rest of ya then"
"You think I'll take your heads?" asked Bran, mouth twitching upwards
It was Brienne who answered "We disobeyed your order, my King. It was dishonourable of us"
Bran tilted his head, turning to face Podrick "What were my orders again, Ser Podrick?"
His sworn shield wouldn't meet his gaze as he answered "None of us were to visit or communicate with Lord Tyrion while he was in Kings Landing or write to him when he went North"
Bronn sat forward "See, I didn't write to him. I obeyed"
"Oh shut up" said Brienne, leaning back in her chair
"Both of ya, enough. It's clear we're all guilty" cut in Davos, eyes flicking between them
"Yes, you all disobeyed" agreed Bran, gazing at Ser Davos across the table "Perhaps the hand of the King can explain why"
Ser Davos glanced at the rest of the small council before answering "Well, your orders seemed a bit harsh, your Grace"
"Cruel" said Podrick, lifting his head "Lord Tyrion is a good man, he didn't deserve to be left alone in that cell for weeks"
"The lad's got the right of it. Not like he was the one breathing fire over Kings Landing. All those unsullied slaughtered the city and were given ships and plenty of coin and sent on their way" put in Bronn
"I don't know Tyrion very well. I only met him briefly but from what Jamie told me about him" said Brienne swallowing hard "Jamie was the only family who loved him and he died. Leaving him alone – seemed cruel"
"I see" said Bran, taking in their guilty faces "Tyrion's been gone for months, yet you all reach out to him now?"
"We tried to follow your orders" said Davos, shifting in his seat "but when you said he was suffering..."
"We felt bad for him" finished Bronn, a sour look on his face
None of them would meet Bran's gaze as he looked around the room. He'd sent a raven a few days ago to his sisters; before Tyrion disappeared. He'd seen glimpses of what the future could bring and sought to give them some warning; however vague. Things were too far gone now. He hadn't told anyone the things he'd seen through the raven's eyes. There was so much suffering - Bran had wondered if he could have prevented it. Had he known then what he did now, Sansa's request might have been refused. There was no point dwelling on that now though. What had happened could not be changed and the old Gods would only show him so much. Their power was in the North and Tyrion was beyond his ability to help. He could warg into any animal; yet whenever he drew near Tyrion his power failed him - allowing him to see only what the old Gods wanted. The best he could do was watch over his brother through the raven's eyes. Bran sighed. There was nothing any of them could do now that would help.
"I believe you are all correct - and I won't punish any of you" he said, weariness settling over him "It was a mistake to stop communication with Tyrion, but there is nothing we can do to help him"
Podrick's face fell "Yes, your Grace"
The others echoed his words without enthusiasm.
Bran leaned forwards in his chair "I won't let you send your messages to Tyrion now; the outcome in the North is not yet clear"
Again, reluctant nods of agreement followed his words. The three-eyed raven could see glimpses of the future and instinct urged him to wait, however much Bran Stark agreed with the council.
Podrick raised his eyes to Bran, adding quietly "Is he suffering much, your Grace?"
Bran's face was grim as he answered "I fear so – but this is a battle the lord of Winterfell must win alone"
"Sansa will take care of him" said Brienne, laying a hand on Podrick's shoulder
Bran's mouth turned downwards. His sister had many of her own demons to battle, but her actions so far offered him no such hope. Bran had trusted Sansa and she'd let him down; putting the whole of the North at risk as well as hurting Tyrion.
'The chance of the successful future I saw grows slimmer each day' mused Bran 'but it's still there – a tiny shred of hope'
Arya clutched the message in her fist as she hurried towards her sister's room. It was still early in the morning and the search parties were just beginning to go out. Arya had been preparing to join them when Maester Wolkan had found her, delivering a message bearing Bran's three-eyed raven sigil. She hadn't written to Bran for help in the end. By the time her message would have arrived and a response came back to Winterfell it could have been a week. Yet her brother had written to her anyway; and his words were cutting.
The wooden door offered little resistance as she barged in, disturbing Sansa as she sat doing needlework. The sight might have annoyed her if Arya didn't know it was her sister's way of coping.
"Arya, is there news?" said Sansa, instantly rising; her face looked worn and worried
"We need to talk. Bran sent a message"
Her sister nodded, returning to her seat and gesturing for Arya to occupy the one opposite.
"What did he say?" asked Sansa, a hopeful look crossing her tired face "Does he know where Tyrion is?"
Wordlessly, Arya handed the note to her sister. She'd read the message several times already.
Arya,
I promised Sansa I would keep her secret, but she also promised to look after Tyrion. You've been trying to help him, but you don't know the full story. Ask Sansa the truth. The time for secrets has come to an end.
Be prepared for what you find.
Bran
"Well?" asked Arya, watching her sisters face pale as she read the note
"Bran could have helped us. He must know something about what's been happening"
Arya's brow furrowed. It bothered her too that their brother hadn't offered more assistance. Tyrion was his brother by law, yet all he sends is cryptic clues. Still, Arya had come for answers, not to complain about Bran's detachment.
"What's the secret Sansa?"
"I really think there are more important things to be doing"
"This is about Kings Landing, isn't it?"
Sansa's face tightened at the words and Arya knew she was near the target.
"We should be looking for Tyrion..." said Sansa, avoiding her gaze
"Bran wasn't going to take his head, was he?" said Arya, pieces falling into place "You asked for Tyrion to be sent North"
Her sister sagged against the chair, guilt spreading over her face "I did"
"What happened?" asked Arya, leaning forwards in her seat. Something had bothered her in Kings Landing about why Sansa was taking Tyrion North but at the time she'd accepted her sister's vague reasoning without asking for details. Not this time. Bran may not be particularly easy to communicate with, but Arya trusted him. If he said there could be no more secrets; there was a reason.
Sansa straightened in her chair, lifting her chin "I asked Bran to banish Tyrion and give him to me. I wanted him to help me rebuild the North"
"You took away his home"
The accusation hung in the air between them.
"This is his home" said Sansa, doubt flickering across her icy facade
"Is it?"
"Of course it is. He's my husband; we're his family now"
"Do you think Tyrion knows that? I've been trying to convince him since he got here, but he doesn't believe me" said Arya with a shrug "Have you actually looked at him? I mean really looked at him since he came to Winterfell"
"I look at him all the time"
"But you don't see him do you?" said Arya, shaking her head "You see the man you married in Kings Landing – not the man he's become. Gods Sansa, can you really not see it? He acts like this is his prison, not his home"
It was a hard truth, but it was past time Sansa heard it. Arya had no doubt her sister had seen the change in Tyrion, she just couldn't accept it. Her sister had married the ghost of a man she once knew. Even now as the truth was laid out for Sansa and her doubts began to show, her sister was visibly struggling to accept it.
"What I did was awful" admitted Sansa, dropping her gaze "but Tyrion's adjusted to the North, he's a great lord of Winterfell"
"What was Bran going to do with him – before you intervened?"
"Tyrion would have been made hand of the King and inherited his family's land and titles" said Sansa, voice growing quiet
"Instead he's an exile banished to the North. His house and family name wiped out. Living like a shadow in Winterfell"
Sansa's shoulders slumped "I never meant to hurt him, I just wanted him here"
Arya's fingers drummed against the chair, grey eyes staring at her sister. What Sansa had done was selfish. She could dress it up however she liked, giving it whatever rationale she chose but it ultimately came down to what Sansa wanted. It was infuriating; Arya loved her sister dearly, but she'd grown to love Tyrion as her brother too. While Tyrion had all her sympathy in this, she wasn't completely cold to Sansa. What she'd suffered at the hands of Cersei, Joffrey, Ramsay and Petyr had impacted her hugely. It was hard to fault her sister for wanting one of the few people she trusted by her side; but Sansa was using Tyrion like a comfort blanket. Someone safe and familiar to cling to and it wasn't fair to him. He'd lost his family, suffered injustice and cruelty his whole life; he needed help as much as Sansa did.
"You're going to tell Tyrion everything" said Arya, locking eyes with her sister "Or I will"
"He'll hate me for it"
"He'd be justified" said Arya, seeing Sansa flinch "but he could never hate you"
"I know I've not treated him well" said Sansa lifting her gaze to meet Arya's "but when he's home, I'll tell him everything. I can fix this and Tyrion will be fine. Everything will be better; I'll make sure of it. He's been in bad situations before and come out on top"
Arya stared at her sister. Sansa's gaze was fierce, yet held softness when she spoke of Tyrion. It was naive of course; her hope that everything would be fine. It brought back childhood memories of Sansa before she hid behind her wall of ice.
"Do you actually love Tyrion?" said Arya, face tightening
"More than anything"
"That's all he wants, you know - your love. He doesn't think you could ever love him"
Sansa shook her head vigorously, denying her words "Of course I do. He knows that"
Arya swallowed hard. The real Sansa wasn't completely lost behind the crown she wore. The girl who dreamed of knights and romance was still there – but Arya feared her inability to see the uncomfortable truths that surrounded her would only bring her pain. She had to make her understand that her actions had consequences; no matter what rationale she gave them.
"Do you actually understand what a horrible thing you've done?" said Arya, crossing her arms and steeling her gaze "You took everything from him. It's not much different to what Cersei did to you"
Her sister's face tightened at her words "It's nothing like that"
"Yes it is. Taken far from home, unable to leave and forced to marry. He's your hostage to do with as you like"
"That's not true!" said Sansa, face contorting in anger
Before Arya could argue her point a frantic knock sounded on the door "Your Grace, lady Arya; urgent news!"
"Enter" called Sansa, standing up. Her ice Queen facade back in place
Lyle rushed into the room, panting heavily "Some of the guards found a large group of women not far from Winterfell"
"And? We're looking for my husband" said Sansa, eyes narrowing.
"They've seen him; he's being kept in the Wolfswood"
Arya was on her feet in an instant while Sansa stood rooted to the spot.
"Sansa" said Arya, reaching out to touch her sister's arm "I'll bring him home, I promise"
"I'm coming too" said Sansa
"You can't. It's way too risky"
Sansa's eyes sparked dangerously "I'm going"
"No, you're not"
"Your Grace, the women are being brought into Winterfell. They claim they were being held as slaves to be sold in Essos" cut in Lyle, glancing between the two sisters "One of them is demanding to speak to you. Says she owes Lord Tyrion her life"
Arya moved in front of her sister "Stay and find out what they know. We'll find Tyrion. Please Sansa I can't risk anything happening to you too"
Lyle nodded "The woman gave us directions; the horses are being readied now. Some of the Cerwyn and Tallhart men are coming too"
Indecision tore across her sister's face, before her shoulders slumped in defeat "Very well. When you find who took him, I want them alive. Bring Tyrion home as quickly as possible"
Arya's face tightened at her sister's command. As much as she wanted revenge, Tyrion was the priority. Bring him home, than take vengeance against his abductors.
Tyrion's head throbbed painfully as the light of the morning entered the barn. Some of the guards had returned empty handed from searching the Wolfswood and the horses were now in stalls beside his own. At least they hadn't found the girls. If they'd been recaptured his suffering would have been for nothing. He tried to comfort himself with the thought they wouldn't be sold into slavery, but it did nothing to ease his pain. Blood trickled down his face and onto his chest as he tilted his head to one side.
Gawan had cut open the scar across his face; though no-where near as deep as the original injury had been. Cutting too deeply in his weakened state could well have killed him so the boy had pushed the knife in just enough to reopen it and send streams of warm blood down his face. Already the wound was drying up but the damage had been done. Broken, branded and utterly humiliated; he hoped Sansa never saw him again.
He'd resolved to show no weakness, to be numb to whatever they did to him – but it was so hard. Tyrion wanted Jamie to be with him; to take him home. Instead, his only company was the few horses in the stalls beside him and a raven sat on the gate in front of him. The bird observed him with curious eyes, no doubt contemplating whether he was suitable food.
Tyrion's mind drifted to the executioner Gawan had mentioned. His mind drifted a lot these days; it was hard to keep track of his thoughts. If it was true, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to kill him. Who would want him dead? Tyrion laughed. He was a Lannister – everyone wanted him dead. He found he didn't care who killed him. All those years of fighting to live didn't matter now, his end was near.
The raven appeared to be staring at him, dark eyes locked on to him.
"Come to laugh at me too?" asked Tyrion, voice barely a whisper "I don't mind, I'm used to it"
The bird cocked his head to one side still studying him and Tyrion closed his eyes once more. He hated being stared at. There were times when he'd made it work for him, and in his younger years any kind of attention had been good – but he'd grown to resent it. The attention never brought him comfort, never gave him real satisfaction. People gave him their attention because they either wanted something or they were mocking him – never because they cared.
'Wretched little monster' whispered Cersei's voice 'You deserve all of this'
Snow was falling outside the barn again, large flakes giving the ground a fresh coating. Tyrion shivered, unable to move from his position. The slightest movement sent waves of agony through his badly damaged left arm and the collar around his neck chafed whenever he turned his head. It was so frustrating, Tyrion wanted to cry. It was freezing and he'd never liked the cold. Surely death wouldn't be long now?
Sansa appraised the wildling woman before her. She'd gone to the great hall to find forty women waiting for her, some as young as ten and four. All of them had black collars around their necks and were covered in filthy rags. Her stomach twisted; was Tyrion in a similar condition?
One of the older women had approached, calling herself Rose. The wildling had scraggy black hair and looked to be no more than thirty, but the fierceness in her eyes made it obvious she had led them to safety. Sansa had given orders for the collars to be removed and food to be given to the girls - her servants were left in charge of their care. Wildlings or not, Sansa had a certain empathy with the younger girls. Looking at their terrified faces was like remembering her own younger years in Kings Landing; far from home and afraid.
Now she sat opposite Rose, with Maester Wolkan at her side in the small chamber she used for meetings.
"You wished to speak to me?" asked Sansa, chin held high
"Aye, thought you'd want to hear the whole story of what happened" said Rose, meeting her gaze without difficulty
"Free folk do not kneel. Why would you want to speak to a Queen?"
Sansa knew she was being rude but her nerves were more frayed than she would care to admit. However the wildling had information, and was willing to share it - as Queen she had a duty to listen.
'Do not be ruled by emotion' Sansa chastised herself 'emotion makes you weak and weakness makes you vulnerable'
Rose raised an eyebrow "I owe the little lion a debt - we all do. It's right you know what happened"
"Perhaps you could tell us the specifics?" prompted Maester Wolkan "We are aware girls and women were being taken from the Gift and a few had gone missing from villages near Winterfell"
"Yet the Queen did nothing"
Sansa's hands curled into fists "Free folk have no Queen and are therefore not under my protection"
"Some of those girls were under your protection" said Rose, eyes burning "I was one of the last women to get taken and I know this problem was brought to your court Queen in the North - and you did nothing. I know things only got done when it was brought to Tyrion's attention. Deke's granddaughter was taken by those bastards and the poor sod came here desperate for help. You turned him away but your husband didn't"
Sansa's nostrils flared, but it was Maester Wolkan who intervened "Yes, Lord Tyrion was working with a man called Deke to track the disappearances. What happened to you all? Some of those young girls have wasted away to nothing"
"Aye, best you know the whole thing. I was taken prisoner along with another girl near the Gift. Five men attacked us out of nowhere and put us in chains. Next thing we're in the back of a cart travelling for days until we're brought to this camp. They put collars round our necks and chained us up in a barn like animals - some of those girls had been in that barn for weeks" said Rose, venom in her voice "They was going to ship us to Essos and sell us as slaves"
"How did you meet Lord Tyrion?" asked Wolkan, eyebrows drawing together
Sansa observed the woman carefully as her heart beat sped up. She was desperate for information on Tyrion.
"They brought him in a few days ago and tied him to a post outside the barn. A panel was loose and I could see from it. He talked to me and made a plan. He killed one of the guards and helped us escape the barn, giving us directions to some forgotten path through the Wolfswood he'd read about. He said if we could find it, it might hide us from them – and it did" the wildling turned to Sansa then, eyes full of pity "He was escaping with us but some of the men followed. Tyrion had a sword from the guard he killed. The little lord told us to go and he held them off. Don't know what happened after that"
Sansa didn't care about the wildlings or how they'd escaped, but panic flooded her at the thought of Tyrion in battle "Who took you? Who has my husband?"
Rose sighed, shaking her head "There was two lords running in. I only caught glimpses of them through the panel cause they never come in the barn - always sending guards in. Tyrion knew them though. When he came they was taunting him, I think one was called Robin and the other was Gawan"
"Robin Flint and Gawan Glover?" coldness swept through Sansa, it couldn't be true. They were her friends, weren't they? Surely they wouldn't have taken her husband away from her. Gawan was the heir to Deepwood Motte and Robin was a strong Northern lord - this couldn't be true.
"I don't know – but they was definitely lords. They told Tyrion when he was dead Robin would marry you. One of them was scruffy and wild looking – I saw him shoving the little lord's face into a bowl of food and making him eat like a dog. I heard his voice more often than the other one" said Rose, eyes growing hard "he was a cruel bastard"
Fear consumed her as the woman's words sunk in. They were going to kill Tyrion. Her breathing sped up as the image of Arya bringing home a corpse came to mind. The last time she'd seen Tyrion he'd been sound asleep in their bed. She'd kissed him and told his sleeping form she cared for him. It wasn't enough, thought Sansa, remembering the frown on her husband's face as he slept.
Sansa's heart had urged her to wake him up and apologise for treating him so poorly. She'd wanted to pull him close until the sadness left his face and his eyes sparked with warmth once more. Yet, she hadn't done any of those things and now she wouldn't get the chance. Arya's words from earlier came back to her. Did Tyrion know she loved him? Arya didn't think so. Gods, she'd been so cold to him. What kind of wife leaves her husband in any doubt of her affection?
A hand touched her arm, startling her from her thoughts "Are you alright, your Grace?"
The Maester's face was pulled into a frown, but Sansa ignored his question, turning instead to Rose "Did they hurt him? How was he treated?"
The woman tilted her head to one side before replying "He was tied to a post outside for a day and it was bloody cold. The back of his head was covered in blood when they brought him in, but they mostly left him alone apart from feeding him like a dog"
"Thank you for your information. Maester Wolkan will see you are all given proper care" said Sansa voice thick
"Your husband's a hero, you know?" said Rose, eyes locking on to her as she stood "I hope you find him in time - I owe him a debt"
Sansa thanked the woman once more and watched her and Maester Wolkan leave. She didn't want her husband to be a hero - she just wanted him home. From what Rose had told her he hadn't been badly hurt, but that was before he helped the women escape and Reg had hinted that they'd punished him for something. A shiver crept down Sansa's spine back as she folded her arms across her chest.
Robin and Gawan.
Could they really have done this? The wildling woman had been blunt and truthful with Sansa, and she didn't doubt she'd heard those names. She didn't want to believe they would betray her. There'd been so much betrayal in her life already; men she thought she could trust who turned out to be false. Sansa had learned from her experience and she was wary now - or so she'd thought. Logically, the evidence piled up that it was Robin Flint and Gawan Glover. Both had sought her affection and been rejected. Both had taken 'hunting trips' together, though Gawan more often than Robin. Both were gone now and Tyrion had disappeared not long after. The man they'd interrogated had spoken as if there was more than one person in charge.
Robin's arrogant face came to mind; she'd seen a lust for power lurking below the surface but continued to trust him as an advisor. Sansa shuddered. They wanted to kill Tyrion and then marry her off to Robin - the match would have been approved by her council if she was widowed. She could have unknowingly wed her husband's murderer.
What truly turned her stomach was Gawan. The petulant boy had often taunted Tyrion, but she'd let him carry on; dismissing it for the sake of not offending the other lords. Had the jokes and sneers hurt Tyrion - or that Sansa hadn't defended him against their words? Then there was Gawan's grinning face as he held up the mangled rabbit he'd killed for dinner…
'Stop' Sansa told herself, screwing her eyes shut 'don't go there. Tyrion will be fine, he's always fine. I'll make this up to him somehow'
Tyrion was the one man who'd never betrayed her; who she trusted fully without question.
'Yet, you betrayed him' whispered her mind 'He's at the mercy of monsters because of you'
Alone in the council room, Sansa let out a shaky breath as her hands trembled. She had to be strong; this was no time to fall apart. All she could do was wait and hope.
Darkness was falling once more when Robin Flint entered Tyrion's stall. He'd been left mostly alone since Gawan's visit earlier that morning, as more and more guards returned empty handed from the Wolfswood. A guard had come to Tyrion twice throughout the day and forced water down his throat - proving they still wanted him alive for some reason. Tyrion's whole body throbbed as he lay shivering against the wall. He'd been starved and beaten, weakening him to the point where he could barely lift his head when Robin approached him.
"You little bastard"
Robin's face curled into a scowl as he lifted his foot and kicked Tyrion hard in the ribs. He was helpless to avoid the blows as Robin pulled his foot back again and again, each kick stealing his breath and sending waves of pain through his chest.
The lord of Widow's Watch crouched down beside Tyrion, gripping his face tightly "You ruined everything"
"Good" mumbled Tyrion, struggling to breathe.
Robin's eyes bulged and he shifted his weight to straddle Tyrion, shoving his broken wrist to one side causing the multitude of broken bones to grind against each other. Tyrion clamped his mouth shut, as the world swum before his eyes - he wouldn't make a sound.
"Look at the state of you" said Robin "Sansa will be ashamed when she gets your corpse"
Tyrion didn't respond, instead focusing on the floor to one side.
'Go away inside little brother' whispered Jamie 'they can't get you there'
"Why won't you speak!" said Robin, slamming his fist into Tyrion's chest again and again "You could have spared yourself all this, if you'd told us where the slaves had gone"
"Not worth it" said Tyrion, voice hoarse
The young lord had always been the calm, collected one between him and Gawan. Tyrion had thought he was cruel but it was much better hidden than in the other boy. Tonight, he'd lost the thin armour of courtesy he wore and Tyrion suspected the reason - the girls had escaped. Despite his pain, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards at the small victory.
"Don't know why you're smiling dwarf" growled Robin, clamping a hand on his shoulder and pulling him forwards as much as the collar allowed "You're our property, no matter what. Even when you're dead everyone will see what the lord of Winterfell really is. Our mark will be on you forever"
Tyrion screwed his eyes shut as Robin traced the brand on his back. It covered most of his shoulder and each touch sent spikes of hot pain through him, but that paled in comparison to the shame the mark brought him.
"Suit's him doesn't it?" said Gawan, appearing at the gate to his stall - several guards flanking him
Robin moved off Tyrion then, giving the brand a final press as he stood "We've had to change plans because of you, but don't worry - your executioner is on his way. The fool paid us a King's ransom to get his hands on you"
"Believed everything we told him" snorted Gawan "but I suppose revenge makes you blind"
"The slaves have reached Winterfell" admitted Robin with a sigh "and that means Sansa will be sending out people to bring her pet back. We can't be here for that, you see. As much as I'd love to watch him gut you, we'll have to leave you behind to await the familiar face of death"
"It's a shame really" said Gawan, looking mournfully at Tyrion "I wanted to keep you as my pet, but we needed money to run this operation and his demands were very reasonable"
"The last Lannister at his mercy in exchange for huge amounts of coin" said Robin, stepping back "an arrangement that would have worked out well for all of us if you hadn't tried to play hero. Our operation here is ruined, but it's too early to tell whether Queen Sansa knows who was behind it"
"Doubt she'll listen to the wildlings" said Gawan with a yawn "not highborn enough for the icy bitch"
"No, but Arya might" said Robin, grimacing "Of course you would have listened to them. The mighty lord of Winterfell listened to everyone"
"Poor little lion wanted to be a wolf" mocked Gawan, leering at him "now he's just prey"
Tyrion kept his head down, fighting to control his emotions. Why couldn't they just leave him to die in peace? He knew he had utterly failed at everything. He'd tried to honour the Starks - to be like them. Was it so bad to not want to be a Lannister? His sister had slaughtered innocents, and used them as human shields when Daenerys came. His father had orchestrated the red wedding and slaughtered so many before that they'd written a song about it. His family was cruel and callous. A lump formed in Tyrion's throat. He didn't want to be like his family, but now he'd dishonoured Sansa and her family too.
Robin stood in front of him now, corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he observed his prisoner "You'll die tonight Lannister - but just so you don't think about escape…"
Robin raised his leg bringing his boot down on Tyrion's left ankle sending a loud crack throughout the stall. His eyes watered as tendrils of agony lanced up his leg, while Robin reached down to grasp his foot – twisting it left and then right repeatedly. The bones ground together as Robin twisted until he was satisfied it was properly broken. Bile crawled up Tyrion's throat at the pain of each movement. His foot was hanging at an odd angle now.
"Why won't you scream imp?" asked Robin, straightening up as black spots clouded Tyrion's vision "You've disappointed Gawan - he hoped to hear a lion cry. Hurting you wasn't in our plans but you brought it on yourself by interfering"
"We've tried to keep the damage to one side of your body. This guy paid a lot for the honour of killing you - least we could do was leave him an undamaged side to work on" said Gawan
"It would be bad business otherwise" agreed Robin "Gawan, come take your pet for his last walk"
Robin left the stall as Gawan entered, a sadistic grin covering his face as he unlocked the chains from Tyrion's wrists. The cuffs dropped to the floor with a dull thump, giving a little relief to his damaged wrist. The boy wasn't finished and unlocked the chain from the wall that attached to the back of his collar.
"Let's go" he said, tugging on the chain and pulling Tyrion forwards as if he were a dog on a lead. He was far too weak to move and the movement sent him crashing onto his undamaged side. Angry tears burned at his eyes. They were degrading him and he couldn't do anything to stop them.
Gawan didn't wait to see if Tyrion followed but pulled on the lead dragging him out of the stall. He tried to stand when he realised he couldn't escape the humiliation, but his ankle wouldn't support any weight and he shook violently at the effort. Tyrion was dragged on his knees and good hand out into the cold of the evening with the guards forming a path for him to be walked down. It had snowed last night and he left tracks in the icy flakes as he was pulled onwards.
'Why?' he thought as the guards laughed at him
His father and sister had suffered brutal but quick ends despite the horror they'd wrought on the world, why did he have to suffer? He'd done terrible things, but did it truly warrant all this pain?
"Pathetic" jeered a guard, kicking at the snow and sending it into Tyrion's face
"Aint so mighty now"
"Where's your claws lion?" mocked another spitting on him as he past
They didn't travel all that far, but to Tyrion it could have been the length of the wall. Every taunt, every time he was spat on or kicked at broke him a little more - grinding him down to dust.
"Good boy" said Gawan, patting Tyrion's head as he struggled to rise once more "not far to go"
Tyrion's left side was useless to him. The best he could do was lean on his right side to spare himself the pain of his broken limbs dragging through the snow.
'Is this how Cersei felt during her walk of shame?' he wondered 'at least I'm only half naked'
The icy snow sent shivers through him as it touched his bare skin, but it was unavoidable as he was pulled towards a post between the farmhouse and stables. Robin stood waiting with a smug smile, eyes moving from Tyrion to a piece of wood nailed at the top of the post. They came to a stop as Tyrion panted in the snow. His breeches were soaked from the ice and there wasn't a part of him that didn't hurt. As he lay gasping on the ground, his eyes followed Robin's gaze to the sign.
The piece of wood was large with writing in big bold letters; The Lord of Winterfell.
"Do you like it?" asked Gawan bending down by his ear "Your executioner isn't the brightest but I'm sure even he can read that"
The group of guards gathered around the post as Tyrion was pulled the last few feet towards it. The chain in Gawan's hand was locked into place high above his head – tethering him to the post. The young lords stood back then, admiring their work as Tyrion lay in the snow; utterly defeated.
"He killed your brothers in arms" said Robin, addressing the men "and he ruined our business – stealing our chance to make real money. The North is weak and ravaged by war. Gawan and I decided to make our own fortune and you supported us fully. I ask that you continue to support us. We may have lost this round, but there are still many opportunities available to us"
"Justice has been done and the lion has been tamed" added Gawan, spreading his arms "do you stand with us still?"
The men roared with enthusiasm, before moving off to ready the horses. Tyrion lay still in the snow, to weak to shiver against the biting cold that surrounded him. He was dimly aware of the men riding off into the Wolfswood until only Gawan and Robin remained.
"You cost us big time Lannister" sneered Robin "but every setback has an opportunity. A shame we can't stay to see you die, but Arya Stark is leading the search for you and we need to be long gone when she finds your body"
"Have no fear my pet" called Gawan, swinging on to his horse "Your old friend will be here soon to claim his prize"
Robin laughed "He's waited a long time for this; I hope he finds it satisfying"
With that they both urged their horses onwards into the Wolfswood. The sky was a dark, inky black as a few snowflakes began fluttering to the ground. The fire in the centre of the camp was still burning; offering some meagre warmth despite Tyrion's distance from it. Wouldn't do to let the cold take him before this executioner could deliver a bloody end. The collar dug painfully into his neck but they hadn't bothered with any other restraints. There was no point anyway - he had no desire to escape this time. Most of his life had been spent defying death, now he would welcome it. Tyrion didn't bother moving from his position on the ground; instead he curled into a ball as best he could to await the end.
Maester Wolkan leaned over his desk, re-reading the message for what could have been the hundredth time.
Lannister's not only ones who pay debts. Last lion will die and justice be done.
There was something odd about it and the old Maester just couldn't figure out what. The wildling woman's information suggested Lord Tyrion's captors were Robin Flint and Gawan Glover, but the message didn't seem to suit either of them. It was possible they were trying to disguise their highborn status by the poor writing but that didn't seem to fit either.
Wolkan sat back with a sigh. Queen Sansa still seemed to be in denial over the situation and he sympathised with her. He'd been the Maester here when Ramsay was lord and he'd tended her injuries during that time with great pity. The idea of being betrayed by two men she trusted had surely hurt her, though it wasn't entirely unexpected. Neither of the men were particularly likeable and their spite over Sansa's marriage to Tyrion had been barely hidden. His mouth turned downwards at the thought of Lord Tyrion. He'd been clearly unwell when he arrived at Winterfell and his lack of self-care after that was obvious. Wolkan had let it go assuming Sansa would take care of her husband or insist he take better care of himself, but Tyrion had grown increasingly withdrawn. Whenever he saw him Tyrion had looked exhausted and gaunt, but Sansa seemed oblivious to it. Perhaps he should have intervened.
The Maester had grown to like Tyrion Lannister. He was well-loved by the Winterfell household and regarded as a kind, approachable lord throughout the North. Unlike Sansa whose reputation had gone the other direction. Servants feared to approach her and she was seen by many as a Southern Queen wearing a Northern face. It wasn't entirely Sansa's fault, he thought. She was young to carry the crown, mistakes were to be expected and her traumatic past didn't help matters. She trusted no-one fully save her sister and Tyrion, but at the same time was eager to please the other lords and ladies. Maybe he should have been more persistent in his offers of help to her, but Sansa Stark was as cold and intimidating as winter when she wanted to be.
A light knock sounded on his door, pulling him from his thoughts. Rising from the stool, he shuffled towards the door and tugged the heavy wood open to find Nessa stood outside.
"Sorry to bother you. I just wondered if I could do anything to help?"
Wide eyes gazed up at him and Wolkan softened "Come in Nessa, though I'm not sure what you can do to help"
The girl brightened as she hurried into the room "The women who escaped are sleeping in the great hall now. I was helping the other servants take care of them"
"That is good" said Maester Wolkan, returning to his stool "Some of them have been in danger for a long time, but they can rest safely here"
"The guards and Lady Arya are going to get Tyrion now, aren't they?" she said, hope brimming in her voice
"They are, though we do not know what state he might be in when he's found"
The Maester had spoken softly but his words were true, it was better for the girl to be prepared after all.
Nessa's face tightened "Why would anyone want to kill Tyrion? He's so nice"
Wolkan's eyebrows shot up "Dear girl, how do you know they want to kill him?"
"The women in the great hall were talking about it" she said, shifting on the spot "they told me he was really brave and saved them all"
The old man nodded "Lord Tyrion is a hero"
The girl approached his desk spying the letter lying on top "What are you working on?"
He hesitated, glancing between the girl and the letter. There was no harm in letting her read it; it said nothing she didn't already know.
"This letter came to Winterfell, but we're not sure who sent it" he said handing it to her
Wolkan smiled watching her sharp eyes scan the contents; she was very proud of her reading skills and delighted in telling people it was Tyrion who taught her. He'd asked his lord about it once but he brushed it off as needing a servant who knew which book to bring him. The Maester knew that wasn't true in the slightest.
The girl's brow furrowed as she gazed at the letter "This is written funny"
"It is" he confirmed "likely by someone with poor education or pretending to be poorly educated"
Nessa shrugged and handed it back to him "Maybe they don't speak the common tongue"
Wolkan stared dumbstruck at the girl. His mind raced as a grim connection formed in his mind. The message had sounded familiar to him, because he'd heard that manner of speech before - they all had.
"Tyrion used to complain about all the bad writing he had to read in Essos. He said it was cause they talked a different language and had to learn the common tongue" she continued, oblivious to her own breakthrough
"Nessa!" he said, grasping her shoulders "You clever girl, I believe you've figured out the answer of who sent this message"
"I did?" she said, beaming "Will it help Tyrion?"
'If we're right, he's as good as dead' thought the Maester sadly, but he couldn't tell Nessa that.
Wolkan swallowed, smiling at the girl "It will help us bring those that took him to justice. We must tell the Queen at once"
Nessa frowned, biting her lip "I don't wanna see the Queen - she scares me"
Wolkan hurried to the door, the note in hand "Very well Nessa. I'll inform the Queen of your discovery"
Lady Arya and the men had long gone, but it was important to tell the Queen anyway. At the very least it brought clarity to the mystery of Tyrion's disappearance.
"Wait" she said, face puzzled "What did I figure out?"
The old man turned back to her in the doorway, heaviness settling in his chest "I believe the one who seeks revenge on lord Tyrion was a close friend of the dragon Queen. The captain of the Unsullied - Grey Worm"
Tyrion's eyes were shut as he lay in the snow, fresh flakes fluttering on top of him and melting against his skin. He shivered against each fresh drop of coldness, but made no effort to move. The chain attached to his collar kept him locked close to the post and he saw no reason to try and sit up. With any luck the snow might kill him before the executioner arrived. Time had lost all meaning to Tyrion, but he assumed it had been a few hours since he was left alone.
The sounds of the Wolfswood were familiar to him now. The birds chirping in the trees indicated it was the early hours and daybreak was near. There'd been a rustling in the bushes somewhere behind him for a while now, but it was the sound of snow crunching in front of him that drew his attention. It wasn't an animal – the footsteps were human.
He didn't bother raising his head to investigate. The last time he'd opened his eyes he'd seen his father looking at him – disgust spread over his face at the sight of his youngest son. Before that it had been Cersei smirking down at him telling him how much he deserved it, while his vicious nephew stood next to her; laughing at his uncle.
The footsteps came to a stop before him and Tyrion waited for the thrust of a sword to end his life.
"You will face justice now"
The familiar voice sent a shudder through Tyrion. His eyes darted open as cold dread wrapped around his battered heart.
"Grey Worm?" he asked, voice breaking
Was this another illusion? Another figure from the past come to haunt him? His gaze moved upwards to look at his former friend. Grey Worm did not look well. His hair had grown out and his body was leaner and harder than before. He had the look of a man who'd lived off the land for too many moons.
The unsullied captain grabbed Tyrion's right arm, easily lifting him up and slamming his back against the post, so he sat slumped against the rough wood.
"You look at me when you die" he said, cracking his knuckles
Tyrion said nothing as sadness filled him. Grey worm had been a slave his whole life and lost the two people he cared about most. Cersei had killed the woman he loved and Tyrion had arranged the murder of his Queen. The man carried his traditional spear and still wore the uniform emblazoned with the Targaryen dragon sigil however worn and dirty the clothes were.
"As you say" said Tyrion, watching his former friend. Any moment now it would be over.
The tip of the spear was pointing at him, but Grey Worm's eyes were locked onto the collar around Tyrion's neck.
"You should have died in Kings landing" he said, spear trembling "you a traitor – betrayed our Queen"
Tyrion said nothing, but his eyes were full of pity for the broken man before him.
"I pay those lords so I kill you myself" he said "they want you gone too. Our Queen dead and you marry another Queen? I could not leave Westeros without avenging her memory. She saved us from slavery – from men like you"
Heat flooded Tyrion at the accusation "I'm no slaver – but you are"
The tip of the spear thrust forwards, stopping an inch from Tyrion's heart.
"How dare you?" spat Grey Worm "This one was freed by Daenerys Stormborn, this one continues her fight against slavery"
"So after you kill me... are you going to kill Robin and Gawan?" said Tyrion, voice shaky "They used the money you gave them to set up a business in slavery. That barn was full of young girls ready to get shipped off to Essos. They were stolen from their families and kept in chains"
Grey Worm shook his head "No...you lie! You a Lannister, you all liars!"
"I'm not lying. Your new friends lied to you"
"You hope to save yourself by telling lies. Those lords want what I want - an end to you"
"Kill me then; I deserve it" said Tyrion, looking him in the eyes "But I'm not lying"
Grey Worm's face contorted in anguish as he tried to process the words "No, I never help slavers. Those boys asked me lot about slavery and about you. They say they curious"
"You told them I'd been bought and sold as a slave in Essos" said Tyrion, letting out a sigh "I wondered how they knew about that"
Indecision tore across the unsullied captain's face. Tyrion knew the conflict wasn't over killing Tyrion – he'd made him mind up about that already, but whether to believe him or not.
"Look in the barn" said Tyrion, voice growing weaker as the conversation wore on "that's where they were kept"
Tyrion shuddered as Grey Worm's eyes flicked from him to the barn in question. He was so cold.
"Where they now?"
"Escaped to Winterfell"
"You lying" said Grey Worm though his voice wavered
The man was a great captain and military commander, but Tyrion had discovered in Mereen that was as far as his skills went. The unsullied were taught to obey and not question. While Daenerys and Missandei had gone some way in correcting this, Grey Worm was a soldier first and foremost. Politics and manipulation were lost on him in many ways. Robin and Gawan had used him while probably laughing about how the former slave had helped them enslave helpless girls.
"We were friends once" said Tyrion, lowering his head to his chest
"You were always outsider – not to be trusted" said Grey Worm "Use fancy words to use people"
"I cared for Missandei and Daenerys too. I hate that they're gone and I'm the cause of it"
"Shut up!"
"Daenerys went mad. She slaughtered innocents – I couldn't stop her"
"Enough!" roared Grey Worm, left hand clenching into a fist "You are traitor and you will die as one"
Tyrion leaned back against the post, giving the man he'd once thought friend a clear target "Whenever you're ready then"
The spear had retracted as they spoke but the point was still aimed directly at his heart. A clean death at least; no more pain and suffering. Grey Worm's eyes were without remorse; dark and brutal. Jamie was there now, stood behind Grey Worm with a sad look on his face.
'It'll all be over soon little brother' he said 'no more suffering. We'll be together again'
At least he wasn't alone - he really didn't want to die alone.
The ground seemed to vibrate beneath Tyrion as the sound of hooves thundered through the Wolfswood in the distance. A white horse burst through the trees at the end of the clearing followed by dozens more guards a few lengths behind.
Grey Worm turned to see the riders before returning his gaze to Tyrion once more, hate and pain burning in his dark eyes as he thrust the spear forwards to end his life.
The deadly point sprung towards Tyrion as Arya's voice cried out in the distance.
"No!" shouted Arya, thundering across the clearing towards Tyrion.
She'd spotted him as soon as they broke through the trees. Tyrion was leaning against a post, half naked in the icy snow while a man wearing an unsullied uniform pointed a spear at his chest. The man turned at the sound of their approach before quickly moving his attention back to Tyrion.
They weren't going to make it. Arya saw the man's arm pull back to thrust the spear into Tyrion as if time had slowed down. Her horse shuddered beneath her as it closed the distance, but it would be too late.
A flash of light brown and gold caught her eye and Arya watched a small, furry bundle pounce from the bushes behind Tyrion and attack the man's hand, sending his thrust wild. Rather than impale him, the tip of the spear sliced into Tyrion, carving a line from the bottom of his chest and across his ribs.
Arya pulled her horse to a stop as she finally reached Tyrion. In one movement she leapt from the horse's back and withdrew needle, positioning herself between Tyrion and his attacker. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she took in the man's face; it was Grey Worm. The captain of the dragon Queen's unsullied.
The creature had its jaws wrapped around Grey Worm's hand and with a final yank severed two fingers. Arya's eyes widened as she looked at the creature - a small wolf pup with golden brown fur. The unsullied captain staggered back a pace as the wolf dropped to the ground and darted past Arya towards Tyrion. Blood covered the ground between her and Grey Worm as his two fingers lay discarded in the snow. The spear was lying next to Tyrion and the man moved to grab it until Arya jabbed forwards with needle, driving him back. She'd travelled here with forty men and they surrounded the lone unsullied on horseback now, weapons drawn.
"You can't interfere" he spat "This is justice!"
"Justice would be me slitting your throat" said Arya, as Alec and Cayn swung off their horses and hurried towards Tyrion.
"This man a traitor. He deserves to die"
Arya's face grew tight "Take care how you speak of my brother. Where are Gawan Glover and Robin Flint?"
On her way out of Winterfell, Arya had found the leader of the group of women as they were being led into the great hall. She'd asked the wildling woman only two things; directions to find Tyrion and the name of who had him.
The woman had given her two names – Robin and Gawan, and she hadn't been lying as far as Arya could tell. The appearance of Grey Worm was unexpected to say the least.
"They fulfil their deal – they leave him for me" said Grey Worm, dark eyes glinting dangerously. He barely seemed to register the two fingers missing from his right hand as blood dripped onto the snow.
Arya's eyes narrowed "What deal?"
"I pay them and they give me Lannister so I get justice for Queen Daenerys"
"What about the slaves? Were they part of your deal?"
The man's face flashed with anger "I no slaver! I know nothing about that. I pay them so I kill him"
Arya was confused. The man was a former slave; it seemed unlikely he would help sell people into the same fate. She'd expected to find Robin and Gawan here, yet there was no sign of them and instead she found Grey Worm. Her mind raced with possibilities; trying to see the whole picture.
Alec appeared at her side with his sword drawn, and Arya glanced at him in confusion. He'd gone to tend Tyrion, yet now the fury rolled off him in waves.
"Did you do that to him?" he demanded, pointing his sword at Grey Worm "Did you cause all that damage?"
Arya's stomach rolled. She desperately wanted to check on Tyrion herself, but she had to deal with this first. Alec wasn't easy to anger, but the look on his face was murderous as he stared down the man before them.
"No" said Grey Worm, shaking his head "I come to kill him"
"Who hurt him then?" growled Alec
"Was...Gawan Glover and...Robin Flint" croaked a weak voice behind her
Alec's sword lowered at the voice and he turned back to Tyrion without a word, as Arya's heart twisted. He sounded so weak...but she had an answer. Those two were behind this and they would face justice. Grey Worm was also guilty. If not for the wolf he would have killed Tyrion in front of her and Arya wanted nothing more than to poke a hole through the man's throat, but Sansa's orders stayed her hand.
"In the name of Sansa Stark the Queen in the North, you are under arrest on charges of kidnapping, attempted murder of the lord of Winterfell and working to sell innocent girls into slavery"
Grey Worm's face paled at her words "There no slavery here"
"Tell that to the forty women who just escaped here with collars around their necks"
"No...not true...I not…"
Grey Worm staggered as though struck by her words, while Arya nodded to her men. A group surged forwards to restrain him and he didn't bother resisting as he was dragged away. He'd surrendered far too easily, and Arya was beginning to suspect he'd been used by Robin and Gawan. There would be time to figure this out later, when she'd checked on Tyrion.
Her forty men were a mixture of Winterfell guards and a number of Cerwyn and Tallhart men. Cley's captain of guards turned to her "We will check the area for signs of where Glover and Flint could have gone, lady Arya"
Arya shook her head "I fear they're long gone. I'll leave you to oversee the search and the prisoner – Tyrion needs me"
The older man nodded as she placed needle back on her hip and turned to Tyrion. Alec and Cayn had ripped their cloaks off and were in the process of wrapping strips of the material around his ankle.
Cayn was propping Tyrion up as Arya dropped to her knees beside him. Bile crawled up her throat at the sight of his battered body. His left arm was mangled while his chest was covered in deep bruises. A wad of material was pressed against the slash on his torso while his upper arm and face were covered in blood. Her heart leapt as she looked at his face; his old scar had been reopened. Tyrion's eyes were closed and Arya's gaze centred on the collar fastened around his neck. A short length of chain was attached to it, tethering him to the post.
"Why didn't you take that off?" she said, glaring at Cayn
"The clasp is melted shut and the metal's burnt into his skin. Cutting it off is too risky. A maester will need to do it" said Alec, eyes never leaving his work on Tyrion's ankle, which Arya realised was hanging at an unnatural angle
"Lady Arya" said Cayn quietly, eyes darting to Tyrion's back and up again
Shuffling in the snow, Arya moved until she had a clear view of Tyrion's back – and then she wished she hadn't. His back was a mess of old scars; marks Arya had seen across the narrow sea. Her hands clenched so tightly her fingers dug into her palms at the realisation someone had lashed him in the past. The sheer quantity and size of the marks turned her stomach but not as much as the inflamed shape that covered the back of his left shoulder.
They'd branded him.
Those bastards had branded her brother.
Cayn's eyes were sad and watery as he turned away from the sight, yet Arya couldn't bring herself to move. The brand looked very new and her interrogation with Reg came to mind.
'I held him down while they did it' he'd said, a grin on his face 'He struggled and struggled but I held him nice and tight, he soon stopped fighting when it was over'
A snarl curved over Arya's face and she regretted not hurting Reg more before she killed him. He'd taunted them with what they'd done to Tyrion, but she'd never imagined this.
'Robin Flint. Gawan Glover' she thought, adding their names to her list.
They would die for this – in the most brutal way she could imagine.
"Arya..." wheezed Tyrion, and she scooted around so she was in front of him as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
"Tyrion" she said voice breaking "I'm glad to see you big brother"
He was terribly pale and shivering as he tilted his head to look at her "Robin...wants to marry Sansa...you can't let him. Please don't let them...near her"
His voice cracked as pain filled green eyes bore into hers.
She reached forwards, taking hold of his good hand "I won't let them near her or you ever again. You're Sansa's husband, she won't marry anyone else"
Tyrion shook his head "Can't go back...shamed Sansa and you. Leave me here"
Arya's heart lurched "We're not leaving you Tyrion. You're family; I'm taking you home. This isn't your fault"
"No...shamed you all" he said, choking back a sob "I tried to stop them...but I couldn't...and they...they"
Arya leaned forwards wrapping her arms carefully around him. It wasn't hard to figure out what he was talking about "It's just another scar. We can fix this. We're going home now, ok? Sansa and I missed you so much"
Tyrion was icy cold to touch and trembled in her arms "Sansa will...hate me...she trusted me"
"That's not true" said Arya, eyes burning "She could never hate you. You've done nothing wrong Tyrion – you're a hero"
"What those bastards did to you isn't your fault" said Alec moving from Tyrion's leg to deal with the chain securing him to the post "All those girls are safe because of you"
"We missed you Tyrion" said Cayn, patting his good shoulder "Practice yard isn't the same without you"
She pulled back from Tyrion enough to look into his exhausted face; his green eyes were flickering closed and then open as Alec severed the chain from the collar. She wanted that thing off him desperately, but Alec was right; it was far too tight to his skin and needed practiced hands to remove it.
"Good to see ya Lannister" said Brice, dropping down beside them "Making friends with the wildlife?"
The large man was smiling sadly at Tyrion and Arya pulled back to let him closer. He raised a skin of water and continued talking gently to her brother as he gave him a drink.
Lyle had joined them now too and was ripping their cloaks to strips at the side. Arya sat back as the men took care of Tyrion, her gaze wandering to the golden wolf pup pressing against his right side. It was a direwolf, she realised with a start.
That couldn't be right. Yet the truth was staring at Tyrion with bright green eyes.
When her brothers and father had found the direwolf pups and their dead mother years ago it was the first sighting south of the wall in nearly two hundred years. This wolf pup was small and very young, but not new-born as Nymeria had been. Arya reached out to ruffle its soft fur, and the creature merely snuggled closer to Tyrion, nudging against him with a soft whine. How one this young had come so far south of the wall alone was anyone's guess, but the creature was clearly bonded to Tyrion.
"Almost ready to go" said Lyle, lifting Tyrion's mangled arm and pressing it against his chest while Alec wound strips of cloak around him - immobilising the limb.
"Please… just leave me" he said, and Arya's heart cracked "I can't see Sansa"
She knew he thought himself a prisoner at Winterfell; she'd told Sansa as much the day before. But now naked fear shone in his eyes at the prospect of going home. Tyrion was ashamed; though he had no reason to be. Arya bit her lip as she took his right hand again - none of this was fair to him.
"Sansa's been so sad without you Tyrion. She wanted to come herself and bring you home" said Arya, watching his face contort in pain as his friends secured the makeshift bandages around him "We'll go home and we'll take care of you. It'll be ok, I promise"
"I'm sorry…I couldn't stop them" he said, green eyes sliding close "not strong…like Jamie…failed again"
Panic flooded Arya as he fell limp against Cayn. A hand on her shoulder caught her attention and she turned to see Brice shaking his head at her "He's exhausted m'lady and half frozen to death. Given the state of him it's a miracle he's still alive"
Arya nodded, giving Tyrion's hand a final squeeze as she straightened up "We need to go. Robin and Gawan are long gone - bringing Tyrion home is the priority"
Alec stood with a weary sigh "I'll get him settled on a horse. It's not going to be comfortable but it's the fastest way to get back to Winterfell"
The men moved out to prepare for the journey and Arya's eyes wandered to the sign nailed to the post above Tyrion.
'The Lord of Winterfell' it read.
Arya's hand twitched towards needle at the sight. Those monsters had abused and humiliated Tyrion. The image of Gawan's grinning face and Robin's arrogant smirk came to mind and she wanted desperately to vent her anger. Grey Worm deserved to die but Sansa's orders were clear. Besides, it was possible he had information that could help them.
She spoke quickly with the captain of Cley's guard and split the men into two forces. Half would return to Winterfell with them and the other half would ride further into the Wolfswood in the hopes of tracking Robin and Gawan.
The older man nodded his assent to the plan "As you wish m'lady. We will do all we can to root them out"
"Thank you for your support. Lord Cerwyn and Lady Tallhart are true friends of Winterfell" she said, shaking his hand
"Their actions cannot go unpunished" he said "Justice must be brought to them for what they've done"
The wind picked up, sending a cold breeze around her as she approached her own men. Cayn was sitting on his horse with Tyrion lying unconscious against his chest while Alec and Brice tied a cloak around them both - securing them together. Arya's mouth curved downwards; this was just adding to Tyrion's humiliation but there was no other choice.
"Cayn's the best rider we've got and he's lighter than the rest of us" said Lyle coming to her side "Putting Tyrion with him seemed the fastest way to get him back to Winterfell"
"Agreed" she said, with a nod "We'll ride on ahead, and the rest of our guards will bring the prisoner after us. Grey Worm is very dangerous - watch him closely"
A small growl sounded, causing the horses to skitter nervously. Arya looked down to find the direwolf pup barking at Cayn's horse, eyes locked on Tyrion.
"Do you want to go with him?" she said, crouching to the pup. The wolf's green eyes were far too intelligent as they turned on her, before looking back at Tyrion.
Reaching down she lifted the furry bundle up to Cayn, and the wolf practically leapt from her hands and into the cloak wrapped around her brother, pressing against him.
"Um, is that thing going to bite my fingers off?" said Cayn, glancing warily at the wolf pup now lying against him
Arya smiled slightly, swinging onto her own horse "I doubt it. At least he'll keep Tyrion warm"
The party moved out, with her and Cayn taking the lead. She'd left Grey Worm in the charge of her men - looking at him only made her want to run him through. Her horse heaved beneath her as they pounded through the Wolfswood. Tyrion needed a Maester urgently and Arya was desperate to get him home. Her chest tightened at the thought of Sansa. She could tell Sansa had been clinging to some hope Tyrion would be fine; seeing the truth would shatter that illusion into a million pieces.
