Author's Note: Thank you so much for the continued support! The wonderfully kind reviews and nice comments mean a lot:) All right, for our next chapter we're back into the full swing of things with the plot. There is a tad bit of exposition in here that's necessary to explain the new surroundings, but there's also some new and interesting developments to keep things moving along. Enjoy!
The place was more pleasant than she had remembered from before. After their long, meandering trek through the mud to reach the small space of land that jutted up at the mouth of the trident, Amarah was able to take a moment in order to absorb the serene beauty of the rural surroundings. The great war had not yet touched this small religious community that housed the Faith of the Seven, and Amarah now found herself more appreciative of the tranquil scene. Only the gods knew how long this Quiet Isle would escape the destruction caused by the kingdom's never ending struggle for power.
As she took in the sight of wooly sheep grazing on the grassy slope leading up to the sept, Amarah was struck by a wave of reminiscence that caused the hard line of her mouth to quirk up in a delighted expression.
"What are you smiling about?" Gendry asked from beside her when he caught sight of the fond expression.
Amarah turned to give him the most benevolent expression she had ever deigned to grace him with in their short acquaintance. "I was thinking of Storm's End, the seat of our family house."
She had intended to explain further until Gendry abruptly cut her off with a swift movement of his hand, slicing through the air in a gesture of denial. "Not mine, m'lady. I'm merely a bastard of your great house, or had you forgotten?"
"Technicalities," Amarah brushed off his concern of illegitimacy with a nonchalant air. "As I was saying," she gave him a hard look then that heartily discouraged any further interruptions. "Looking at the land here reminded me of the seat of House Baratheon. You've never seen a more beautiful sight than Storm's End in the first blush of spring. I'm likely more biased in my opinion than others, but I'd dare to call it one of the most breathtaking sights in all the seven kingdoms. The quiet loveliness here caused me to think of it for a moment is all."
"Thinking of home then were you?" Gendry murmured, giving her a look then that approached something dangerously close to brotherly affection.
The observation gave Amarah a moment of pause. She had never actually considered the place to be home as only Winterfell had ever been a true home to her, but the idea was not an entirely objectionable one. When she had thrown her support behind Renly in his quest to take possession of the iron throne, he had promised to give her the seat in exchange for her support, and she had been more than willing to make the exchange. After his death, she had barely taken the time to consider the fact that the stronghold was probably lost to her forever. Her face must have shown the glum direction of her thoughts because her meandering through the forgotten memories was interrupted by the sound of Gendry's voice.
"I suppose it isn't very much home anymore."
Amarah turned to regard him with a quizzical look. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"What?" Gendry returned with an equally baffled look.
"Saying what it is I'm thinking. It's most unnerving."
Gendry thought about that for a moment, the look on his face one of deep reflection. "Perhaps we're more alike than we first thought."
"Oh, no, we're not," Amarah was quick to correct him, but her words of disagreement seemed a bit at odds with the mischievous look in her eyes.
"And why do you say that?" Gendry questioned.
"I'm much prettier than you, of course."
The look on his face indicated that he did not understand her lighthearted response at first, but gradually a look of understanding dawned in his sapphire eyes before an amused smile began stretching the corners of his normally serious mouth. They burst out laughing at the same time in response to her nonsense. Both shared in the unexpected moment of mirth for a short time before their humor was abruptly ended by the sound of a curt voice.
"If you're two are finished carrying on with one another, we'll be going to meet the brothers now."
Amarah looked up into the very annoyed face of Jaime Lannister. "We're quite finished," she informed him with a bright smile that she knew would irritate him even further before taking the hand he offered. Once he pulled her from the squishy mud onto the grassy earth, she took a moment to knock the caked mud from her skirts before rising once again to find him still looking at her with an expression that had been restored to his normal look of detached arrogance.
It took a supreme effort for Amarah not to roll her eyes in a childish way at his continued surliness regarding Gendry. She had informed him the previous day when they left the inn that Gendry was her brother due to another of her father's many endless entanglements with tavern wenches. The news had set him at ease somewhat, but there was still a faint hostility simmering in his gaze whenever he looked at the young blacksmith.
Amarah had borne his behavior in silence till then, but the attitude was beginning to grate on her nerves. "Oh for the love of the gods, Jaime," she blurted out with a look of extreme impatience. "Not all of us have such a liberal view of sibling relations as you."
His mask of boredom slipped just a bit to show a bare glimmer of hurt before it was promptly in place an instant later, but the flash of feeling was enough to cause Amarah to immediately regret her choice of words. She reached towards him to apologize for the poorly worded thought, but he quickly shook off her touch with an impatient brush of his hand.
"I'm relieved to see illness and captivity has done nothing to dull the sharpness of that tongue," he said in an even voice that was betrayed only by the barest waver hinting at his goaded temper. "Just see that you and the boy keep up with the rest of the company. We've not much time for unneeded delays."
With that he was gone from her side, returning to his place at the head of the company to lead them towards the sept where their search for the hound was meant to begin. Amarah gave a deep sigh of resignation, but rejected the thought of following after him to try and apologize once more.
Gendry had just managed to clamber up onto solid ground in order to catch sight of Jaime's retreating back. He looked at her with a guilty expression before opening his mouth to apologize. "Forgive me if I – "
"It's not you," Amarah broke in with a dejected shake of her curly head. "Jaime and I will always be too clever for our own good I'm afraid."
Her tone of voice indicated that the discussion was at an end, and Gendry was of no mind to argue with her. She began trekking up the hill after the others, and he followed closely behind. As they climbed toward the Brow of the Hill which housed most of the brothers on the island, Brienne returned from her position at head of the company to follow alongside her mistress and her blacksmith companion.
As the island could only be reached on foot when the tide was out for a short period during the day, Brienne had been the one chosen to lead their little party, and the few men Jaime had chosen to accompany them, through the safe parts of the mudflats to reach the diminutive island a short distance from the mainland. She had proven a most capable guide, leading through the almost impossible maze of passable earth to bring them to the island, and Amarah made certain to voice her approval when the lady knight rejoined them once again.
"Thank you, my lady," Brienne accepted the compliment with a gracious nod of her head, but a faint blush indicated her pleasure at accomplishing the task so competently.
Neither of them spoke again until the top of the slope had been reached and the wooden sept used for the brothers' prayers could be clearly seen. As they approached the humble structure, Amarah caught sight of a familiar figure walking towards them across the pebbled path. As a part of their vows, the brothers of the isle had been sworn to complete silence in order to better serve the Seven. Only one brother of high ranking was permitted on certain days to break that silence in order to communicate with those that visited the island.
When they last visited the isle, Brienne had first caught sight of Brother Gillam in the stables where he tended to the animals, but he had not been permitted to speak with them on that day. From the sight of him approaching them now, Amarah deduced that it was now his given day to converse freely. He greeted them kindly as they approached, confirming her suspicions.
"It's somewhat of a surprise to see you again so soon, my lady," he said, directing the words toward Amarah who had done most of the talking for their little party when they last visited.
"We hope to intrude on your hospitality only a bit further, Brother," Amarah returned the welcome. "Once we were gone, we discovered much to our regret that there had been matters we had not discussed fully enough with the Elder Brother."
"We are of course glad to welcome you here," he assured with a benign expression. "I'll inform the Elder Brother of your wish to see him, but he is saying prayers at present. I cannot say when he will be able to see you."
He seemed not as eager to welcome them to the island as he professed, but Amarah put the lack of hospitality down to the fact that he spent most of his life in perpetual silence. "Thank you. We would be most grateful to be shown a place to rest until the Elder Brother is ready to receive us."
"Follow me," he gestured for their small company to trail after him. He led them along a path overgrown with weeds and briers toward a group of cottages past the sept and stables where most of the brothers were gathered as they went about their everyday tasks.
They were all clad in the customary uniform of dun and brown cowls that hid their faces from view. Only Brother Gillam's face was slightly exposed with a tuft of straw, blond hair poking out from underneath the hood of his robe. Uninterested in the sight of the nondescript workers toiling away at their duties, Amarah let her gaze roam across the land before it landed on the plot of earth a short way down the hill reserved for the graves of the island's dead or the unfortunate perished souls who happened to wash upon the shores.
On that particular section of land, a lone figure stood out against the blue sky, working busily to tear up the hard packed ground in order to dig fresh graves. Amarah had caught sight of the man when they were last there, and their guide Brother Narbert had explained that the man's job was virtually endless due to the many corpses that continued to find their way ashore after the brutal attack on the Saltpans. From the look of the man's hard labor, his burden had lessened not at all since their departure from the island weeks ago.
Amarah was about to turn away from the sight when the man took a moment away from his work to reach his arms outward, stretching muscles that were surely sore from so many hours of work. As he stood to his full height, a surprisingly massive height which surpassed that of even Brienne's tall frame, Amarah was struck by an odd feeling of recognition. Halting her progress for just a moment, she narrowed her eyes to better examine the mysterious figure, but he was too far and his face too well concealed for her to discern any features that might identify him. Shaking her head at the fanciful notion that the brother was somehow known to her, Amarah quickly rushed on to catch up with the rest of her party. She didn't realize how long she had taken to inspect the mysterious gravedigger until she had wandered almost to the other side of the island to locate her companions.
"The ladies will stay here away from the rest of the men," Brother Gillam was explaining as Amarah arrived at the cottages where they were to stay. "The rest of your party is welcome to sleep in the cloisters with the brothers."
"Very well," Amarah heard Jaime reply to the Brother's offer, but he didn't look greatly pleased about the offering.
He had managed to sneak into her tent in the quiet darkness of night when they had made camp the evening before, but with these cottages on the opposite side of the island and Brienne sharing the small space with her, there would be no chance for nighttime encounters here. For a man of Jaime's lusty appetites, the realization could hardly have been a welcome one.
"Evening meal will be served in the sept just before dusk if you should care to attend," the Brother continued, oblivious to the thoughts of his guests.
Amarah nodded her head in acceptance of the invitation. Perhaps the meal would afford her an opportunity to closer inspect the man who had piqued her curiosity such a short time ago. The men prepared to leave them then, but Amarah didn't want she and Jaime to part with her bitter words still hanging between them. Refusing to be denied this time, Amarah planted herself firmly in his path as he attempted to follow behind the rest of the men. Aside from quirking a golden brow in response to her action, he did nothing else to encourage her.
It was rather difficult to say the words with him looking at her with such a superior expression, but Amarah somehow managed to force out the apology through slightly gritted teeth. "I shouldn't have said what I did."
Jaime looked as if he expected her to say more, but she returned the look with a defiant glare. "That's all the apology you'll get from me," she informed him before stepping aside to follow Brienne to the cottages.
She barely managed three steps before Jaime caught her arm and deftly swung her back around to face him. "My dislike of the boy doesn't stem from the fear that he'll get up your skirts," he informed her with an expression that was more serious now than arrogant. "I simply don't trust him, and it wouldn't harm you to be a bit more discerning in that regard as well. He was, after all, the reason you found yourself almost hanged by a band of outlaws."
"He's sorry for that now," Amarah was quick to point out, unwilling to accept his assessment of Gendry.
Jaime's hard look softened not at all in the face of her loyal defense. "He may have earned your trust, Princess, but mine will not be so easily given."
Seeing that it was an argument she was bound to lose, Amarah accepted his statement with an exasperated sigh but didn't try to dissuade him. He would have to see the truth of Gendry's loyalty on his own without any nagging from her.
"I'll see you at supper then," she ended their conversation with a tired smile before pulling away from his firm grasp.
He let her slip easily from his fingers and left the clearing to rejoin the other men on the path leading back to the other side of the island. Amarah looked back to watch him go before proceeding the rest of the way to join Brienne in the small but serviceable cottage that was meant to house them for the remainder of their stay. Once she had lain down on one of the beds to close her eyes in much needed rest, all thoughts of the mysterious figure at the graves had completely fled her mind.
Much to her disappointment, Amarah had not been permitted to meet with the Elder Brother that day. When they gathered in the small sept for the supper meal, Brother Gillam told her that he was sorry, but the Elder Brother was concerned with other matters and could not meet with them until the morrow. She was slightly anxious at the thought of yet another delay in their journey but accepted the news with a polite smile before turning her attention to the food before them.
Jaime sat by her right hand side and Brienne at the left, but no one had engaged in much conversation as most of their attention was focused on the meal before them. The brothers newest to the Faith were the ones charged with serving the food, so different robed figures moved in and out of the room carrying various serving trays as those at the table partook in the offering.
Amarah reached out to accept a loaf of barley bread when she glanced up to find a pair of eyes the color of wet stone peeking up over the edge of a cowl to look down on her with intense scrutiny. As soon as she had caught the brother's gaze, he instantly lowered his lids shielding his eyes from her view before moving on to serve the others. Shaken by the encounter, Amarah watched the tall figure limp around the table with the labored stride of one partially lame before she realized that the stony gaze had belonged to the brother she saw digging graves on the hillside earlier in the day.
At such a close distance, he seemed even more familiar than before, further growing the suspicions that had been festering in her mind all day. Once he exited through the large set of carved wooden doors leading outside the sept, she could no longer ignore the overwhelming need to satisfy her curiosity. Making a move to rise from the table, she found her progress impeded by a golden hand pressing into her thigh.
"Where do you think you're going, Princess?"
Amarah's mind swiftly searched for a viable excuse that would explain her hasty retreat. "I've certain needs that require attending to," she whispered to Jaime in a voice low enough for only him to hear.
Removing his golden limb, he gave her a skeptical look but made no further attempts to prevent her from leaving. Shooting him a grateful look, Amarah quickly rose from the table to exit through the same doors the limping brother had passed through mere moments ago. She was met with the gentle night breeze rolling in from off the water as she stepped out further into the inky darkness, but she ignored the general pleasantness of the surroundings in favor of hunting down the man who had seemingly disappeared into the night.
Amarah roamed about the gloom in a fruitless search for what seemed like several long minutes before finally preparing to admit defeat. Just as she moved towards the sept to rejoin the others, her ears caught the sound of a joyful bark and she looked towards the source to find Dog, a creature simply named so as the brothers of the Faith didn't seem to be a very inventive lot, running happily towards a barely moving shadow along the side of the stables several paces away.
Intrigued by the sight, Amarah spared no time for rational thought before chasing after the canine to discover the source of the mysterious shadow. When she reached the spot by the stables where she had glimpsed the shadow, she was irritated to find no one there. Swinging about in circles, she squinted into the dark, searching carefully for any hint of life. As she turned away from the glowing light of the sept, she was taken completely unawares by a heavy weight abruptly crashing into her slight figure and pushing her towards the outer walls of the stables.
All the breath in her lungs left in a woosh as her back met with the hard surface of the stable wall, and she was offered no chance to regain it as a strong arm, liberally roped with firm muscle, reached up to violently press her slender neck into the wooden slats. Looking up into the face of her attacker, Amarah found herself battling between equal feelings of joyful success and desperate fear when a voice as rough and harsh as the burnt skin covering nearly half his head cut through the darkness with a pronounced snarl.
"It's not wise for little stags to wander off on their own."
What will follow next? You'll just have to stay tuned for more! Thanks so much for reading. All comments are greatly appreciated, as always:)