Author's Note: Thank you again for your reviews, guys! I'm so so sorry that this chapter took a while to get up, but I was having a serious case of writer's block with this one:( I didn't want to put up a chapter I didn't like. So I just kept staring at my computer until the words eventually started flowing, and I FINALLY got it finished! So here it is. Enjoy!
The ride back to Harrenhal seemed centuries longer than when they departed mere hours ago. With each minute that passed, Amarah couldn't shut out the terrifying images of what horrors the goat must have been inflicting on her faithful knight that very moment. She remembered the solemn vow she had whispered to Brienne just before Bolton's men pulled her away, the promise that she would free her. Now that Jaime had finally agreed to help, Amarah intended to fulfill that promise. Jaime did not favor their chances of success, but Amarah chose to be more optimistic about the possible outcome. She made certain to say a silent prayer to the seven that their rescue attempt would be successful while keeping her worries hidden from Jaime. He seemed to have enough for the both of them.
After what seemed like an eternity, they finally arrived back at the keep. Torches lined its massive, stone walls illuminating the darkness surrounding them, and Amarah quickly scanned the structure for any sentries keeping watch. As she squinted through the shadows, she could't see any movement on the walls that would indicate the presence of patrolling soldiers. The lack of soldiers in plain view indicated that Bolton had already departed with his remaining men to the Twins. She looked to Jaime and saw that he had determined the same. His face lost some of its worried strain at the encouraging discovery, but it didn't disappear entirely. There were still Hoat's men left to deal with.
Jaime ordered Qyburn and the soldiers escorting them to stay back in the woods while he and Amarah approached the structure on foot. She understood his reason for caution as they couldn't afford to give Hoat any indication of their return, though the soldiers would have been useful. As they walked silently towards the keep, Jaime wrapped his good arm protectively across Amarah's shoulders keeping her close to him. Her first instinct was to shrug off the familiar touch, but she restrained the impulse as his near proximity gave her a calming sense of safety even as they risked their lives to enter the haunted pit of Harrenhal once more.
"There are two armed guards at the gate" Jaime whispered in her ear as they slowly approached. "The absence of Bolton's men improves our chances of succeeding, but we'll find it difficult even to get inside the keep before finding your wench."
Amarah squinted at him through the dim shadows to find pronounced lines of worry around his eyes and mouth. "You've not changed your mind have you?" she asked cautiously, wanting assurance she still had his support.
She could make out a small shake of his head as the hazy light from the torches glinted off the golden strands of his hair. "No, Princess, I'm still with you. Though I'm not certain of what comfort that is since it does not speak too well of the grip I hold on my sanity. Tell me, do you know how to kill a man? It may be necessary to get past those guards at the gate with only my one hand at our disposal. You have to know how far you are willing to go to save the wench."
Amarah considered his words for a moment as an unwanted image of that beggar boy flashed across her mind. Those cold, lifeless eyes gleaming in the moonlight still haunted her. She tried to shake off the vision, reminding herself that these men were not helpless children forced to commit a crime to survive. They were ruthless killers who tortured and abused others for the mere pleasure of it.
She looked back to Jaime with a determined gaze. "I will do whatever is necessary to free her, and her name is Brienne. She doesn't like it when you call her 'wench'."
"Which is precisely why I continue to call her that, Princess" Jaime replied with an amused smile despite their dire circumstances.
Amarah didn't miss the distinct emphasis he put on his mocking acknowledgement of her title, but she didn't mind. She found that she was becoming a tad fond of the perverse way he called her 'princess'. The thought would have crossed her mind that he meant it almost as an endearment if she didn't know the man better. However, she ignored his joke and turned her attention back to the matter at hand.
"How do you propose we get past them?"
Jaime furrowed his brow in concentration as he considered the solution to that problem. "If you can manage some type of distraction, I could come up behind them before attacking. The advantage of surprise would certainly increase our chances of dispatching them."
"A distraction" Amarah murmured quietly to herself before she was struck with a clever notion.
She shook off Jaime's heavy arm that still wrapped around her and threw back the edges of her dark cape over her shoulders, baring her front to the cool night air. She still wore the midnight blue dress Qyburn had given her before the dinner with Bolton as she had never been given the opportunity to change into clothes more suitable for travel. The neckline of the dress was low enough to reveal a glimpse of her smooth skin, but it would take more than that to cause a sufficient distraction for Jaime to gain the upper hand. Hastily working her fingers over the fastenings at the front of the dress, she opened it enough to give what she deemed a tantalizing preview of her generous bosom. After she had completed the task, she looked up to find Jaime's attention riveted on the actions of her hands. Her skin grew unbearably hot under his intense gaze as she remembered what had happened between them in the bathhouse. Giving herself a mental reprimand for her weakness, she quickly pushed away the memory before waving her hand to recapture Jaime's wandering attention.
Once his gaze moved back to her eyes, she saw the silent question there. "You said cause a distraction" she told him with an unconcerned shrug. "This would seem like a suitable one."
"I'm not certain. . ." he started, but she began to walk away towards the entrance of the keep without waiting for him to finish. She faintly caught the sound of him furiously whispering her name but paid it no mind as she continued on. Jaime didn't know it, but in addition to the dress, Qyburn had also returned her little dagger which she took care to conceal in the silken sleeves of her dress. Amarah had told Jaime she was prepared to do what was necessary, and she was a woman of her word.
When she entered the glaring pool of light from the flaming torches above the keep, she tried to adopt a helpless expression as she stumbled towards the large, stone arch that led into the courtyard. The two men there took a moment to notice her presence, but once they did she saw them both remove dangerous looking swords from their scabbards and point them in her direction.
"Here now, what are you doin' there?" one of them questioned her as she came closer.
She took a moment to calm the erratic beating of her heart before she attempted to answer him. "They left me behind" she said in a hollow voice groping the stone wall in a show of weakness as she wandered towards them. "That bastard Kingslayer threw me from his horse and laughed when he told me to walk to the capital for all he cared. He just left me there."
Amarah gave a long, mournful sigh as she extolled the tale her woes to these two ruffians. They seemed a bit befuddled by her story at first, but the light of understanding slowly began to dawn on their faces. Taking the advantage of their attention, she thrust her chest forward and waited for them to catch sight of her generous display. The fouler smelling one came towards her then with a hungry look in his eyes. She tried to hold back the grimace that threatened to emerge at his dirty appearance and ugly face, instead choosing to give him a sweet smile that begged for assistance.
"Perhaps you can help me, ser" she breathed softly as he came within an arm's reach of her. He was just close enough now for her to strike him with her dagger. Her eyes darted over his shoulder into the darkness, but she still didn't see Jaime. While Amarah might be able to slice open this soldier's throat, she could never finish off the other one in time before he chopped off her head. Hiding her dismay at Jaime's failure to appear, she looked back at the man before her with an inviting gaze. He took the seductive invitation and moved even closer as he reached out his dirty hand toward her alabaster skin that glowed in the moonlight.
Tracing his grubby fingers over the soft flesh above the neckline of her dress, he gave her a feral smile. "I would be happy to help, m'lady."
He leaned forward then as if to kiss her and Amarah tightly gripped the handle of the tiny blade in her hand as she forced herself to stand there without reacting. His wretched smelling breath hit her in the face like an unpleasant wave as he leaned farther in, and she held back the instant reflex to gag at the smell. Just as his lips hovered over hers, she saw a flash of golden hair and the gleam of a sword as Jaime suddenly emerged from the darkness to stab the other soldier in the back. Ugly in front of Amarah, began to turn his head then at the sound just as she lifted the hand concealing her dagger. She closed her eyes tightly and turned away her head as she swung blindly in front of her. To her relief, she felt the dagger hit something and a warm spray of blood covered her hand and sleeve as she heard the man slump to the ground in silent death.
Amarah's heart was still racing from the jolt of fear that she might not succeed, and the hand covered in the spray of his blood shook almost violently from the knowledge of what she had just done. She slowly opened her eyes once again after the trembling had somewhat subsided, and she looked down to the man fallen at her feet. She studied the head that rested in a rapidly collecting pool of blood and saw a deep slash that divided his left cheek and extended to almost the middle of his neck. It didn't look like a clean kill, but he was dead, so she reasoned that she must have hit something important with her little knife.
Jaime was leaning against the stone wall of the keep trying to collect his breath as he awkwardly re-sheathed the bloody sword in his hand. Once the weapon was put away he looked to her with a disbelieving expression. "Did you just close your eyes before swinging that dagger? Are you completely without sense, woman? You could have missed, and he would have killed me for certain!"
Amarah didn't understand why he was so angry. After all, she had killed the man, and Jaime was still breathing. "There's no need to yell at me like that" she said with a haughty tilt of her head. "Forgive me if I don't wield a dagger like a trained assassin. I killed him didn't I?"
"I'm not - !" Jaime began to rage at her again before stopping himself with a disgusted shake of his head.
Amarah thought she heard him mutter something under his breath then about the gods saving him from brainless women. She opened her mouth to give him a scathing retort, but he cut off her words by grabbing her wrist and yanking her into the empty courtyard. She trailed along behind him silently as he pulled her along to one of the tower entrances to the side of the open space. Once they were safely inside, he released her wrist while he looked about trying to gauge the best way to go in order to find Brienne. Amarah suspected wherever Hoat was, that was where they would find her knight. She voiced these thoughts aloud, and Jaime gave her a condescending look.
"A most insightful thought, Princess" he answered her obvious statement with an annoyed frown that made her want to smack his handsome face. "First we need determine where the goat is. This tower is where the lord of the keep usually resides. No doubt the goat has taken immediate advantage of this residence with his newfound status as Lord of Harrenhal. Though, we'll most likely have to search every last room to find the ugly wench."
His dour prediction was instantly met by the unexpected sound of a horrified scream. Amarah and Jaime's gazes both collided in shock at the sound before they immediately began running towards the source of the noise. Amarah feared that the scream might be Brienne's but it had almost sounded like a man. Contemplating that puzzling thought, Amarah skidded to a halt behind Jaime as he stopped before the chamber where the scream had come from. None of Hoat's men had responded to the noise, but Amarah wondered it the reason for their negligence might be that they had all drunken themselves into an unconscious stupor. It wouldn't surprise her in the least, but it made the possibility of their departure much easier than she had anticipated.
Jaime motioned with his stump for her to stay behind him as he cautiously creaked open the heavy, wooden door and peered inside. He just stood there for a few moments staring into the dim interior, blocking her view, until Amarah grew impatient enough to walk around him and see what was inside. Her eyes grew round in astonishment as they took in a most fascinating sight.
In the middle of the room stood Brienne still wearing that ridiculous pink dress and at her feat lay Vargo Hoat curled into a ball of moaning pain. As she skirted around Jaime to enter the room, Amarah saw that Hoat's hand was covered in bright, red blood as he lay clutching the side of his head. Moving her gaze to Brienne, Amarah noticed that her knight's mouth was spotted with the same fresh blood. That, combined with the fearsome look on her face, gave the impression of some dangerous warrior that might have filled Amarah with a sense of dread if the warrior in question hadn't been sworn to protect her.
"Brienne?" Amarah spoke softly drawing the other woman's attention.
Once she met Amarah's questioning gaze, the burning look of hatred in Brienne's brilliant blue eyes gradually softened as she realized that Amarah had indeed returned for her as she had promised. "I took your advice, my lady" she finally said after a few moments, gesturing towards the pathetic figure on the ground.
"What advice was that?" Jaime questioned from behind Amarah.
Brienne turned her blue eyes on him then before a rare smile crept across her harsh features. "To bite off the closest part of him I could find." At these words she held up something that looked like an ear in her large fist.
Amarah could only stare in shock at the trophy in Brienne's hand as Jaime gave an amused snort of laughter at the lady knight's words. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" he asked before walking past Amarah to bend over the moaning figure on the ground that still clutched the hole where his ear used to be.
"Do you want to kill him?" Amarah asked him after finally regaining the powers of speech.
Jaime considered the question for a moment before shaking his head in denial of the request. "No, he'll suffer enough when my father gets his hands on him. Besides, my desire to get out of this hellhole overrides my desire for vengeance."
However, the desire to depart quickly didn't prevent Jaime from landing a hard kick on the place where Hoat held his bleeding head, prompting another horrified scream of pain from the goat. Jaime gave the man a deadly smile that promised further suffering before leaving him to his agony and departing with Amarah and Brienne trailing after him. Amarah's prediction about Hoat's men sleeping in a drunken stupor must have been correct, for no one appeared to stop them as their trio walked through the muddy courtyard and out through Harrenhal's large gates. It would have almost seemed all too easy if Amarah hadn't been reminded once again of the two bodies that lay facedown in the muddy earth as they passed by them through the stone archway leading to their freedom. That part most certainly had not been easy, but they had succeeded. However, the short joy Amarah felt in their success was immediately overridden by her sense of dread as she remembered where Jaime was taking her. Back to the city where she had sworn never to return. Only the gods knew what fresh horrors awaited her in that den of lions.
She was lost in these morose thoughts as their party crossed the field to once again find the soldiers that waited for them under the cover of the trees. Once they were reunited with their party again, one of the soldiers provided Brienne with the largest suit of armor they could find to replace her bedraggled, pink dress. Once she was suited up again in armor that looked more at home on her large frame, the company mounted their horses to once again depart this haunted place.
As Amarah settled into place in Jaime's saddle she turned to him with a soft smile. "Thank you for helping me save her."
Jaime returned her thanks with his usual mocking expression. "Anything for you, Princess."
Amarah gave a small, inward sigh at his words as she was once again reminded of the new prison her was taking her to. One much more fearsome to her than the haunted keep of Harrenhal. If only his words were true.
I hope it was worth the wait. I wanted this chapter to be a bit lighter since the next few are heavier in tone. I already have a good portion of the next chapter done, and if I get enough good reviews for this one, I might just be motivated enough to finish it in time to post tomorrow! Just puttin' that out there:) As always, thank you for reading! Please review!