Chapter 3

The next day dawned bright and early, with the sun streaming in through the cracks of the caverouns ceiling. Arya awoke slowly and sat up, looking over at the Hound who still slumbered, snoring loudly. She smirked faintly as she watched him, flushing a bit at the memory of his kiss; only to bury such emotions deep inside her. She was still unsure what her feelings were for him, and now that she was clear headed, she would not let him get that close to her again. Standing and stepping lightly over him, pausing when his snores stopped and continuing again as he settled back into sleep, did she go to fetch water at the nearby stream, filling up the wine skins after washing them out and getting some for Stranger, who seemed to at least tolerate her presence. It wasn't till she heard Sandors shout that she hurried back to the cave.
"Where the bloody hells where you wolf girl?! Don't slip from my sight again!" He raged at her, more afraid of losing her then actually angry at her.

She glared back at him, that fire back in her eyes that he was beginning to recognize anywhere. "I was getting us water, and watering your horse, I didn't wander far!" She scowled up at him, so it was to be like this again between them was it, that was just fine by her! Anger was an emotion she understood well. He glowered down at her, admiring her spirit but hating himself that he yelled at her first thing, and bringing that look back into her eyes as she glared at him. Without another word, he stalked out of the cave, checked to make sure Stranger was tacked right and waited for her to join him. She slung the wine skins over her shoulder and walked out after him, burying the signs of their camp fire and made not a noise as he lifted up onto Strangers back and swung up behind her and turned his mounts head towards the North, laying a hand against her hip as if to hold her to him, a hand which she promptly moved! He growled softly under his breath but said nothing as they traveled in near silence, neither one knowing how to reach the other.

They reached the Inn a little past midday, halted a few paces away and dismounted, to take a look at the place before approaching. They saw a few horses tacked up outside and they both went still when the door to the Inn opened and men wearing Lannister Red walked out to water the trees nearby.
"I know him…" Arya whispered softly, watching one man in particular. "His name is Polliver. He captured us and took us to Harrenhal. He killed Lommy…." She trailed off, biting back a growl.
"What the fucks a Lommy?" Sandor asked softly, watching the men as well.

"He was my friend…" She replied, her voice hiding the anger she felt burn inside her. "Polliver stole my sword and put it right through his neck. He still got it." Her voice dipped lower as she watched them.

"Got what?" Sandor sounded exasperated, with her, with himself, with this entire situation. He had half a mind just to back out and not even bother with the Inn. To many Lannister men for comfort!

"My sword….Needle!" She growled out, as if he should know.
"Needle…of course you named your sword." He shook his head as he sighed softly, what was it with people doing that? It didn't make it any sharper, or move any faster. That was all on the person who wielded it.
"A lot of people name their swords." She bit back, anger tinting her tone.
"A lot of cunts…" Came his soft spoken yet neutral reply. They watched as the men moved back into the Inn and shut the door. Sandor was just about to follow his instincts and move on when Arya took him by complete surprise and strode out of the bushes and towards the Inn. Swearing under his breath, and fighting not to go yank her up by the scruff, he followed after her, barring her way just before the door.
"What do you think your doing! Lannisters are in there!" He all but roared softly at her.

"I'm getting my sword back, it is mine, my brother gave it to me! He killed my friend and I want it back!" She raged back at him. He growled softly and pointed his finger at her, glaring hard.
"I don't care if he ATE your friend, we are NOT going in there!" He shouted, and was about to haul her away when the door opened and they were caught bickering by a small man wearing Lannister red. There was an awkward pause, before the smaller man moved and Sandor and Arya entered the Inn, trying to act as if that had been their plan all along.

They sat near the back, trying not to stand out, but with the Hound, that is always an issue. The man is built like a tree, no hiding him anywhere, even if you tried and he was noticed by Polliver right away. Arya stiffened when she heard his voice, and reached around to grasp Sandors sword, but instantly relaxed a bit as he and the Hound bantered and tested each other, barely paying attention to the conversation till Sandors loud words of "Fuck the King" echoed throughout the room, then everything went still. After a brief pause and a few more choice words and phrases thrown back and forth, did Sandor see Polliver reach for his sword and in and instant, threw the table up between them, shoving arya back behind him and pulling his own sword. The sound of unsheathing steel gave the men with Polliver only a moments pause before they burst into action! Slashing, swords clanging and swinging did the men seek to bring the Hound down! He took the first one down with a solid left slice of his blade and punched the man, breaking his jaw. The second got shoved so his back was exposed and with a clean swipe, the Hound laid the man bare, he was dead where he fell! Polliver and his squire kept Sandor busy, hacking and slicing, trying to get through his defenses. Sandor was drunk, and he wasn't at his fighting best, even Arya could see that from where she sat and watched! She wanted to help, but had no opening in which to do so yet! One solid kick to the back of the knee and Sandor was down, three of the men kicking him as he tried to protect himself! He growled and managed to sit up, grabbing onto a sword coming for his head and shoved it into an attackers groin! The scream was loud and high pitched as the mortally wounded man fell to the ground and slowly bled out. The same man, whose sword he had grabbed shoved Sandor back down to the ground and tried to slice his throat, the dagger dangerously close, until in a sheer of strength and will alone, did he kill the man by ramming his face repeatedly onto his own dagger, letting him drop where he lay! It was as his back was turned, and Arya saw Polliver rise that she acted! Grabbing a nearby vase, she lifted it high over her head and slammed it down on the squires head, pulling his sword out of his sheath and gutting him with it, before turning her attention on Polliver! She hamstrung him, and grabbed Needle from his waist as he knelt before her, just before he fell. Standing over him, her eyes went cold…her smile dark as she pointed her sword at him.
"Something wrong with your leg boy?" She asked in a cold and deadly voice as she advanced on him. "Can you walk… I got to carry you?" She lifted the blade as Polliver looked at her in confusion. "Fine little blade," her words grew darker as she laid the tip of Needle against Pollivers throat. "Maybe I'll pick my teeth with it!" The look of sheer horror and recognition on his face was like gold to her. Finally, he knew what it felt like to be afraid, and of a young girl to boot. He didn't have time to speak as she slowly thrust that blade through his throat, just like he had done to her friend, Lommy. She pulled back and cleaned the blade as she watched him choke and sputter on his own blood, watching the light fade from his eyes. Nodding to herself, she turned to gaze back at Sandor, whose expression was unreadable, and together, they walked out of the pub and mounted on their steeds. Sandor on Stranger, and Arya now on a milk white Mare she named Craven, and rode off into the fog together.