It had been hours since Lord Jon and the raven had left, and even longer hours since her son had gone. Sansa was a mix of anxiety, guilt and fear. She felt stupid for letting such a thing happen in her own kingdom. She paced at the head of her hall. She wanted to go with the search but her husband told her to stay in the castle and meet with the Lannisters when they came. She hadn't wanted to face them alone but she supposed it was a punishment from the gods. She knew that Jaime Lannister was known to have a temper.

As if her thoughts were a spell, Jaime barged in the Great Hall.

"What," Jaime held out a piece of parchment crumpled in his only fist and threw it on the floor. "What is this, Sansa? You swore an oath to keep my daughter safe and now, you are telling me she has been abducted?" Jaime and Brienne had been still a little far off from Winterfell when they had received the raven. When they read the message, the lord and lady rode on to Winterfell as fast as they could-leaving their party and supplies to follow at their own pace. They hadn't seen Lord Jon's search party on their way so they headed straight for the castle.

"Lord Jaime, Lady Brienne, if you would-"

"My daughter is out there, probably freezing, dying, or-"

Jaime could not finish that statement. He could not imagine the horrors that had, have or will have befallen on her sweet child. So, he lashed out at Sansa again to remove the horrid images.

"I know we have had our differences in the past but do not take this out on my child. She is not like how you knew me- how you always view me,"

The red haired lady looked like she wanted to take offense but she knew that there are other pressing matters at hand and she had no time to argue with this man.

"Jaime," Brienne spoke calmly. "I know the situation is dire but lashing at Lady Sansa will prove unproductive. I know the lady tried her best to keep our daughter safe but unfortunate things happen even if you are most secure."

Lady Lannister made sure that her husband took a deep breath before speaking.

"What is the situation?" Brienne said before adding, "My apologies if I cut to business. This is my daughter's life on the line after all,"

Though Brienne sounded calm and steady, Sansa could tell the lady's rage engulfed her. Her fists shook and her jaw was clenched. Sansa felt truly afraid that Lady Brienne just might kill her, but Lady Stark remained calm and explained everything that the baker's son told them.

"One of my lord husband's men reported back to me and found the corpse of your master-at-arms at the woods," Sansa added.

Lady Brienne blinked rapidly. No tears fell but her blue eyes were shiny.

"Last I heard," Lady Sansa continued. "The search party is split in the deeper woods and the main road,"

"Thank you, my lady," Jaime stiffly bowed and turned back toward the doors.

Sansa stepped forward and Brienne shook her head.

"My lady, you would do well to stay here and send a raven if news came up,"

Sansa looked like she wanted to protest but she nodded instead.

"Lady Brienne," she called out. "I do sincerely apologize. I will pray for Lady Euphemia's safe return,"

"I believe you, Lady Sansa, and thank you," Brienne tried to smile reassuringly but it came out more tired. Still, Sansa took it as some sort of reassurance and offered to see the couple off.

-OOOOO-

It was already nightfall. Haymitch had been riding for hours. His mind was half in fear for Euphemia. The other half was travelling back in time when Haymitch was 13- back when he thought he had found love.

Haymitch realized he had completely stopped-lost in the thoughts of the past. He shook it away and needed to focus on the present. But he didn't go on. He had to pause and think. He tapped his gloved hand on his thigh- trying to think of what else to do.

That's when he saw a puff of smoke in the thick of the woods to his left. He ordered his horse to head to that direction.

-OOOOO-

Effie felt herself dropped on the snowy ground as if she were a sack of flour. She was drenched in dirt, sweat and tears by the time she reached camp. They had bound her, gagged her and put a sack over her head upon capture. She tried to put a defiant glare at them but the longer they traveled, the more her resolve crumbled. It was the mention of Aron that had reduced her to tears. They slapped her several times whenever she whimpered or sniffed out too loud.

"Captain, how many times must I tell you not to wear your uniform while we're on duty?"

Effie didn't recognize the voice. She had listened to the men during the travel to account the number of enemies she'd possibly face. It definitely sounded male. But unlike the others who were loud mouthed and crass, this one spoke like he were a proper highborn. He almost whispered-like a snake hissing.

"But master, I assure you, she didn't see me," another voice responded. That was the voice of the captain that met them a little after her capture. He sounded highborn enough but he was just as crass as the others. He had caressed her leg and would have gotten into her training breeches if the others had not voiced their fear for their master.

"Boy, get your cloak and hood. I would not risk anyone discovering your identity," their so called master ordered. She only heard a grunt and footsteps crunching away from her. After a short while, another set of footsteps that sounded closer became even more so. She felt a hand on her hips. Her breath hitched and she somehow slapped the hands away despite being tied up. The hand only withdrew and a voice chuckled.

"Another tough one I see,"

She could see a shadow looming over her from her sack and an overwhelming scent of roses.

"Don't worry, child. You will soon learn your place,"

His breath smelled like blood. No rose perfume could mask its rotting scent.

"Feed the child," she heard the man as he broke away from her, thankful for the scent leaving her.

The lady could smell cooked meat. Her stomach growled at the smell of it that she almost missed the blood breath. But what irked her most was that she didn't want to eat anything that these men gave her. She didn't want their hospitality. She just wanted to hear Aron's voice, her mother's awkward yet warm hugs, and her father's golden hand stroking her hair.

She wanted to be home.

Yet when they brought her supper, the smell overpowered her senses. They cut one hand free. My right hand. Like father except those savages he met had missed the ropes. She would have untied her other hand but she knew they were watching. So she just sat down trying not to get seduced by the smell of meat.

Eventually though, her hunger betrayed her resolve and it was all she could do not to eat like a brute.

After supper, Effie got her right hand tied up behind her again. Immediately after her hands were secured, she wanted to puke out every morsel of food she had taken. Guilt and rage taunted her to do it, but her will to live was even stronger. In her gut, she was hopeful that she'll escape somehow.

"Fetch the healer," she heard. It sounded like their master. "I want to see how much she's worth," A shudder went through her. She didn't want anyone to touch her, especially not them, especially not there.

"That damn healer is out for a piss," said another voice and went on grumbling about getting an actual maester instead of that mummer. He pissed too often, he said.

After a long, agonizing time for Euphemia, she could feel that something was amiss. No one had checked her maidenhead yet and somehow it had gone quieter.

"Bloody," a man spat. "What was in that water that they had been gone so long?"

She heard footsteps crunch away.

Listen, she could hear Aron tell her. Use your other senses.

Euphemia estimated about eight different voices talking- one man near her and their master and the captain among them.

Then she heard it- a gurgling sound like one she heard when Aron took an arrow to the neck.

The camp went still for a moment.

Then, she could hear the men scramble. She could hear wood cracking, some metal clanging and tinkling, leather slapping, even the man who seemed to be guarding her got up from his post. This is my chance.

"It looks like Randin's arrows," the captain commented. "Did you think he-"

"Over there," the man who had been guarding her cut him off. "I see a shape in the tree over there,"

She heard them tread cautiously, their boots crunching ever so softly on the snow. So far, she heard only two voices. She had to make sure eight… or seven now maybe, if the gods were on her side. Please gods. Blind them to my plans, oh seven. One for each of you. So I may escape.

"What if there are more?" another voice said. This one was the one who got the sniffles.

"If there are more, why didn't they attack us all right now?" said another voice, gruff that one. Four.

"I should never take you unseasoned men for this," the captain spoke. "You're all cravens looking for easy money,"

"So, do you captain," another voice spat. Five. This one's has a raspy voice and cusses a lot.

"At least I'm not-"

She could hear a slight scrape of metal but a voice broke over it.

"This is no time to bicker amongst yourselves," a voice hissed. Six. The master. "Why isn't our attacker making a move unless…" he hummed. It all seemed like a game to him, like he was playing cyvasse. Effie hated that game. Ironically, she should be good at it, seeing as how she is organized, thinks ahead and oversees possible problems encountered, but somehow, staring at a still board for hours drove her insane. But this man, he sounded like someone whose whole world was a cyvasse game.

"Randin was the first one to go out to the woods," she heard the master murmur.

"So?" a new voice spoke. It was higher than everyone's. Seven. "What does it matter?"

While they were bickering amongst themselves, Effie was slowly scooting her way backwards. She felt the heat getting more and more intense until she could almost feel its direct effect. Effie, then, shoved her tied hands behind her. Flames licked at her wrists, searing pain burning her flesh. Even if she kept on adjusting her hands and pulling it away often to avoid rendering her hands useless, she bit hard on her lip. It would be quite a laugh. Euphemia Lannister carrying the family tradition. She would have laughed but the pain was searing. Her mouth was filled with blood. She probably smells like their master now.

"What are you doing?" Euphemia could hear footsteps crunching towards her. Most of her ropes had melted. Aron had blindfolded her a few times for training. She was getting better but she still couldn't match even an eighth of her master-at-arms' skill. She always miscalculated.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, as his shadow loomed over her. She was grabbed by her waist and hoisted by the man. Effie began to panic. Her ropes hadn't fully broken apart yet but perhaps if she had a little more time.

"Can't have your pretty little arse escape," her captor said as he squeezed her bottom. She was tired of being treated like some prize. Effie forcibly pulled apart her hands-the ropes chafing against her skin, burning her skin even further. Her bonds broke and one of her elbows hit her captor's face. The momentary shock allowed her to elbow his face again- harder this time- causing him to slump and allow her to slide downward. She shielded her face with her hands before hitting the ground and rolled. She yanked the sack off her head immediately and saw her captor glaring at her. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a wooden pole and yanked it from its spot. Her captor charged toward her but she was quick and well-trained. She bashed his head with the pole then smashed it again before he could even react. She repeatedly struck him until he laid still. Only after she took a sword from him did Effie scan her surroundings. Most of them were arguing amongst themselves, their attention on a certain part of the woods. It seemed as if they cared little for her to leave her only with one guard. She was lucky that the sword she got was lighter than the standard sword. As quiet as a mouse, she tiptoed toward a horse she spotted not too far away.

"Do you think Damion will be fine back there?"

Effie felt panic rise within her. She knew it was the guard she had just killed. Instinctively, her clutch on the hilt of the sword she stole from the unconscious man tightened. But before she could start running, the master spoke a name-a name she never thought she'd hear once more. It made her stop in her tracks.

"What brings you here, Lord Stark?"

"Maybe I just fancy spilling someone's blood?"

The young lioness turned around to see if her ears were lying. But there he stood, Haymitch of House Stark, messy unkempt curls, mischievous glint in his steel eyes, and clad in what he had been wearing the last time she saw him. He was also sweaty and probably pissed his own breeches (Effie mused and it gave her small comfort), but she never saw him more gallant than he does now. Against her better judgment, she took a step closer and closer until she was near the closest tree behind them. She finally listened to her senses, albeit only a little, and hid behind there.

"Perhaps you fancy another bed slave, Lord Stark," the master taunted him but Haymitch looked unfazed.

"Who says I'm in need of a whore?" Haymitch replied, crass as ever.

The Stark was taller than all of her captors. She could see his eyes sweep over his enemies. It seemed their gazes met but she wasn't sure. If he indeed saw her, he gave no sign.

"You gave Alan Lannister quite a headache," the master stated nonchalantly.

"I made sure it ended pretty quickly," Haymitch replied with seemingly the same indifference, but she noticed the twitch of his lips as he had spoken. There was rage contained in it. The master seemed more amused with his reaction and chuckled.

"Well I'm sorry Lord Stark," the master spoke in his low dangerous tone. "But I'll do the same to you."

It was as if her body had a mind of its own and sprinted toward danger. She spotted the first one to draw steel and stabbed him.

Effie was hit with a moment of numbness.

Then, the realization of what she did washed down on her like a waterfall from out of nowhere.

I killed a man.

Effie felt her body still but her mind was buzzing with those four words. It took the men aback, too, because no one was attacking. She was left in a trance that she didn't know she would wake up from.

"Stupid Lannister," she could hear someone say, then she felt herself being dragged and it jolted her awake from her trance. "I was trying to buy you time so you could get away."

"I couldn't leave you," she stuttered.

"Lannister."

They turned to the direction of the voice. Effie saw that the master was a small man- smaller even than Effie. His hair was almost completely white save for the few streaks of dark here and there. He looked to be in his 60s. He didn't seem threatening until you gaze into his milky gray eyes.

"Coriolanus Snow," Haymitch declared. "Claimed to be Roose Bolton's bastard brother. He's a high ranking officer of the order of the yellow eagles. They were supposed to keep peace at the trident."

"Lady Lannister," the Bolton bastard bowed. She knew of the Boltons- completely vanquished upon the decent of the White Walkers- Roose and his bastard son both. She never knew there was a bastard left though.

"I do apologize. My help is quite incompetent and I am quite new at this game," Coriolanus went on. "Forgive me but you don't look like a Lannister."

"I am Euphemia Lannister of Tarth," and Effie made a show of her blade. Haymitch and the others followed and she was afraid a fight will go out, but Snow laughed and it threw everyone off guard.

"Ah, Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime's brood. I see it now. But I'm quite surprised Lord Stark."

She could feel Haymitch's anger heating beside her and she was suddenly terrified of him, of what he'd do. Snow only sighed at that.

"Our talk has gone long enough though. No word of my activities should reach the dragon queen."

And the men charged.

Effie drew her sword up and managed to block a blow from an attacker. She kicked him between his legs and blocked another incoming blow. This one was fast and aggressive. She knew their types. Aron told her of them once. She just has to keep blocking until he grew exhausted and then she can make a strike. But this wasn't a one-on-one dance and she knew another attacker would be upon her once more, and assuming a chance would come- she felt herself freeze up as the images of the blood that flowered from the man's back came into mind.

"Fuck," she heard someone beside him and the man before her lay dead on her feet.

"Get yourself together, Lannister. I've killed, too."

His commanding voice was enough to snap her back to attention. Three fighters left and the Captain and Snow were nowhere to be seen.

"Yield and the North will show you mercy," Effie declared.

"The North will not," Haymitch refuted.

"I'm trying to make it easier here."

"No," spoke a handsome young boy with black hair that seemed to shine purple. "Ser Snow trusts us with this task."

Steel clashed and clanged and it was a whirlwind. They were left with more skilled fighters now and Effie's arms began to tire out. She had misjudged a move and the enemy blade grazed against her arm. She bit back by cutting his leg causing him to limp. From the corner of the eye, she could see Haymitch begin to tire out. He was looking out for her so he always redirected the attention of one attacker so Effie will only have to fight one. But even she couldn't dwell on how chivalrous it was because she was too occupied by the purple haired boy who has given her more wounds than she did.

"I could have taken you for my own if they hadn't stopped me. Maybe killing you would have more satisfaction than-"

They could hear the pounding of horses from the distance. Euphemia could feel her heart race. Has Coriolanus sent for reinforcements? Her opponent smiled in glee as they danced in steel.

"There they are," a commanding voice boomed.

Euphemia's heart leapt as she glimpsed the Stark banners from her peripheral vision. The purple haired boy grimaced and it was just enough for Effie to see a chance and she stabbed his leg through.

"Yield!" a voice boomed and it was as if it was the magic word that made them all collapse to the ground- their opponents in fear, Euphemia and Haymitch in exhaustion.

Effie turned her head slowly to her right and met Haymitch's gaze. For the first time, his gaze was silver, and it shone fear, yet there was also happiness and relief. It was the last thing Effie saw before everything turned to black.

Author's Note: School starts for me on June 13 so I updated early. OMG! I'm honestly not sure if I wrote that fight scene right. Ehemeged fite scene. I tried to research how to fight but I got confused so I just went with my gut and made the fight as vague as possible hahahah.

On other news, Game of Thrones Season 06 Episode 8 OH MY GODS THAT EPISODE KILLED ME WITH HAPPY FEELS (This is why I decided to keep the first part even though it was filler-y. DEDICATED TO MY BABIES LADY BRI AND SER JAIME. I literally giggled when I was writing that first part)

Okay, now that I've got that out, I hope you enjoyed reading. Please read and review. They are love and life and air to me. :D