In her hand she held a dead rabbit, and a decent plump one at that. Myrna was incredibly proud of this kill. It would definitely fill their bellies. Hunting had been easier since they came across an abandoned wagon that still held supplies a fortnight ago, including a decent bow and a few arrows. The wind running past her made the air chilly, and the sun was nearly gone. As she walked back she watched the colors from the day sink away in the west and the stars grow brighter in the dark sky. Even when she was younger at Beaumont Hall she enjoyed being outside the town walls and explore the Wolfswood, and the chilly air gave her more of the feeling of home. It was in her blood to explore, as she had heard many tales of how Beaumont's would often go on expeditions beyond the Wall. Myrna always felt like sighing when she thought of her home, which is why she rarely thought of home when she could help it. It felt like there was a piece of her missing but the time that had passed only made her grow used to that feeling.
When she finally walked back into their tiny camp she looked for the fire and grumbled to herself when she saw The Hound sitting against a tree picking his nails with a dagger he had found at the wagon. It reminded Myrna of her own dagger she had strapped to her hip; she had to remind him to give it back to her shortly after their stay at the inn.
"Am I to light the fire again?" she asked him, throwing their meal on the ground.
He gestured at some freshly chopped hardwood. "I did the hard part," he boasted.
With a long face Myrna gathered the firewood and their flint and some tinder so she could light a small flame for them. All the while The Hound stared at her, and it was a look she was somewhat used to as a lady but often ignored it but he was beginning to get on her nerves. When she finally skinned their rabbit and hung it over the fire she glowered at him. "Can I help you?" she spat.
"Trying to figure out if you are a maiden or not," he said without shame.
She sucked in some air. "That is none of your business!" she stood up and went as far as she could so she could still feel the warmth of the fire.
The Hound barked a loud laugh. "Considering how shy you are, I am going with maiden. And an old maiden at that," he judged her.
"I'm not old," she defended herself, hugging her legs tight against her chest.
Sadly it was true. There was no man she ever trusted enough to have that kind of relationship, not even her friend Desmond that she traveled with for all those years. Most high born girls her age were already wed and bore their first child, just like Queen Cersei told her at the capital. That led her to think of how Queen Cersei reacted when she had been told about their escape, and King Joffrey too. What would happen if they had ever returned there? Hopefully they never would, but Myrna had no home to return to. Beaumont Hall and her town all burned down eight years ago and she had gone from place to place ever since, hiding from Lannister men ever since she discovered they were after her. Myrna had no idea why they needed her, but she would never trust the men who fought alongside The Mountain. Recently she had thought maybe marrying her to The Mountain was their plan all along. How cruel those people were...
Becoming slightly bored Myrna took out her dagger and began cleaning it. "Have you even used that thing?" The Hound's voice asked her offensively.
"Of course," she replied, turning the blade over and carefully wiping it.
He laughed harshly. "Oh really? Have you killed hundreds of men?" he teased her.
"More or less," she said, giving him a cold stare that turned his mocking smile into a gawking expression. He seemed surprised, but then was quick to dismiss it.
"Sure you have..." he turned his head to look away from her.
This was becoming awkward for her quick so she changed the subject. "Why won't you return to wherever your home is?" she asked The Hound, interested in the rest of his family besides The Mountain. Maybe she could stay there if he goes back.
"Kings Landing was my home, after my father died and my older brother became lord of Clegane Hall," he answered her as if that was all that needed to be said, and it was. Myrna was sure The Mountain was no kind lord.
"I also have an older brother who's a knight," she rambled on. "His name is Nicholas. And my parents were-"
"Knighted by whom?" The Hound asked, sounding more interested in that.
There was a long pause.
The Hound gave her a hard look. "Well?" he pressed on.
"The Mountain," she answered with a tremble in her voice, glancing down at her dagger. She traced the engraved tree on the steel. There was another long pause. Slowly, she looked up at him again and saw he was still staring at her as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. "Nicholas helped catch some well-known cutthroat from the south that tried to hide in the north. They sent The Mountain to anoint Nicholas eight years ago," she continued, not really wanting to but she could not help but feed his curiosity and release some inner turmoil she had built inside her.
He went to help himself to the rabbit after putting his dagger away, then he sat himself back down to where he was and took a big bite. Myrna shook her head when he ripped a piece off and gestured it toward her. She was suddenly no longer hungry. He shrugged and went back to questioning her. "And? What is your knight brother doing now?" he asked between chews.
In the corner of her eye Myrna saw something fly at her, too fast for her to do anything. An arrow dug deep into the bark of the tree she sat against, sending slivers flying everywhere. The Hound struggled to stand up as quick as he could, throwing the rabbit aside. Before he could arm himself a man with a bow came out from hiding, pointing an arrow right at Myrna. The Hound froze, grimacing at the man. Myrna pushed hard against the tree with her back but stared back at the man unblinking, trying to hide any fear.
"Don't even try anything, Clegane..." the man threatened The Hound. "Unless you want to see your bitch here full of arrows," he tilted his head at Myrna.
Two more bowmen went to aim at The Hound, making sure he would not try anything. Then about three more came out with ropes, one went to Myrna and two went to The Hound. Where the hell did this lot come from? She gave The Hound a look but he was busy giving threatening glances at the men tying up his arms.
"Cowards. Leave the girl alone and fight a proper battle," he growled at them.
The man that came to tie her up pulled her up roughly by the arm, making her cry out. "Alright, little lady. Let's get moving here," he propped her up on her feet and twirled her around, beginning to tie a rope around her arms and waist. She winced when the bad part of her back was being pinched. He immediately found her dagger strapped to her hip and swiped it off her. After examining it, he threw it on the ground near the man aiming an arrow at her.
"You needed a new dagger, right Anguy?" he called back at him.
"Aye, that one will suit me just fine," he said impatiently without even looking down.
No, not my dagger again... she thought as her heart dropped. Myrna had only possessed her dagger for a few days. Every few seconds she felt more anxious and was beginning to fear what these men plan on doing with them. How long had they been following us? And who are they? The idea of returning to the capital made her stomach twist into a knot but they did not wear the king's colors. In fact what they wore seemed old and battered so it was difficult to tell where they came from. To be caught by mere bandits was embarrassing, especially for her and The Hound. Though they seemed to be more skilled than average bandits; Myrna usually had a keen ear and so did The Hound but neither heard a sound from these men.
Before she knew it there was a bag over her head and she was blinded. They forced her to walk a ways and she knew The Hound was close behind her from hearing his deep muffled voice curse at the men. She began to breathe faster due to the long walk and the lack of knowing where they were going. Myrna let out a grunt when she ran into something and the man behind her grabbed her and threw her onto something. She rolled over and it took her many times to sit up straight as she had no arms to keep her balance. Then whatever she was bounced when something else was thrown on.
The Hound groaned. "Fucking cunts..." he cursed once again.
Fresh air hit her face when a man on the side of the wagon, that she could now see, took the bag off. He walked in a circle and did the same to The Hound. His hair was flipped over on his good side which exposed his burn, and she could see it being pulled from him having a furious expression on his face. The anger on his face softened when he saw her across from him. A breeze sent her dark curls flying in her face which she could not pull away, adding to her irritation. The wagon jerked and the party of men who captured them began making their way to their destination. Myrna looked off the sides and all she saw were tall trees on either side of the dirt road, shadows looked like they were dancing deep in the forest. Everything was hard to see in the night and it was uncomfortable to feel so helpless.
Neither one of them said a thing during their time on the wagon. When she looked at him he was either staring down at the wagon floor or off to the side into the darkness. He's probably as embarrassed as I am, she thought. Perhaps more since he promised to protect her. When dawn began to break they came to a halt in front of a tavern. She could not get a wink of sleep due to the rough roads making it hard on them in the wagon. When a man jumped onto the wagon to help her up she felt numb on her behind and everywhere else ached, especially her dry and tightened back. The only good thing about her ropes was that it kept her tunic down and no one would see the burn above her tailbone.
The Hound recognized this particular man. "Thoros?" he questioned him.
The man gave him a quirky smile. "Good to see you again, Clegane..." he said as he helped Myrna jump down onto the dirt with his hands on her waist. She stared at him warily and confused. Thoros looked back at her after responding to The Hound. "We go way back," he chuckled and turned her around and led to into the tavern doors.
In the corner of a tavern a scuffle broke out as Thoros and some other men sat Myrna and The Hound at a table, but not many seemed to pay attention to it. What caught Myrna's attention was one of the voices. It was a woman's, and so familiar she had a name on the tip of her tongue. She twisted as far around as her ropes would allow her, trying to peek around the bodies that were interfering with her view.
"What are you doing?" The Hound whispered hoarsely as he looked down at her.
"Tell me what you see," she replied with her eyes still glued to the corner of the room. There were so many men crowded into the tavern and they were all in the wrong spots so she could not see a single thing that was going on.
He struggled himself to look behind them but he was tall enough to see what the fuss was about, and he scoffed. "A fucking Dornish whore is actually beating the shit out of one of these cunts," he turned back around and tried to adjust himself. "Serves them right," he added under his breath but one of the men heard and gave him a good whack on the top of his head.
A Dornish whore? Myrna was so taken back she did not even realize The Hound was struck.
"Oh no..." she quickly turned back around and did her best to hide, keeping her head down and not looking anywhere. Most of the men shouted a hoot after a huge bang, which sounded like a table had been broken. The woman's voice laughed with them as if she had been victorious. It was a laugh that sent her way back.
After cursing under his breath he gave his attention back to her. "What's the matter now?" he said with agitation.
"I know her. You can't let her see me," Myrna gave The Hound a pleading look and then looked back down at the table.
"Who is she?" The Hound asked, but then footsteps approached them from behind and Myrna watched The Hound from the corner of her eye to see his reaction but he showed none as the person kept coming nearer. Myrna's knees were shaking. What if it was her?
In front of them sat Thoros, smiling as always and he held a mug in his hand. Myrna let out a soft exhale and relaxed her shoulders. "I hope you two are comfortable," he said almost genuinely and then he swallowed whatever was in the mug, most likely rum from the sour smell of it. He gave his attention to Myrna. "I'm sorry this is happening to you, little lady. But a friend of The Hound is an enemy to us," he smirked.
"What did he even do to you?" she asked him, trying to keep her voice down.
Thoros stood up swiftly and walked around the table. They both followed him with their eyes. "That will have to wait 'til trial, I'm afraid..." he informed them.
"Nothing to you lot!" The Hound barked loudly at all of them. "You're just-"
The same guy from before was making his way again to The Hound, and this time Myrna saw him raising his hand to strike.
"Don't hit him!" Myrna shrieked.
Silence filled the tavern and the man stood over The Hound, his arm froze in the air as if he did not expect her to yell that loud. Then suddenly Myrna realized she made a mistake and she winced. The same woman's voice from before started coming closer.
"Who is that?" the pretty voice was behind Thoros and then Myrna watched her walk around him. She was eight years older but still the same woman. She was of Dornish descent, and tall for a woman but also shapely. The golden color of her silk exoic dress stood out amongst her darkened skin, which most was exposed. Her short raven black hair was pulled back with a golden band and her big dark eyes examined Myrna, and they widened with surprise. "Sweetling..." she gasped in her southern accent as she ran towards her, and Myrna was impacted with a strong hug.
Myrna just sat there as she was being held; she needed arms to hug back. "Brenda..." she softly said.
"You're alive!" she exclaimed as she pulled away but kept her hands on Myrna's shoulders. Brenda examined every inch of her. "And you have tits now!" she laughed, and some of the men chuckled as well even though they had no idea what was going on.
Thoros walked slowly over to the reunited ladies and placed his mug gently down and then began to pull Brenda away from Myrna. "She is in our custody. I'm going to have to ask you to keep your distance," he said but was suddenly pushed back by Brenda harshly. The look on his face made Myrna guess he half expected that to happen.
"I was to wed her brother! You're telling me to keep distance from my sister?! She's my family!" Brenda crudely spat at him in his face.
Myrna did not know where to look. If she kept looking at Brenda she would only be faced with questions. They would be questions she would not want to answer; they would be about the fate of her home and her brother. Brenda was not there when it all happened. If Myrna were to turn around and away from Brenda, however, she would have to look at The Hound. She knew he would also have questions or at the very least give her his hard gaze which made her irritated. She simply kept her head down and stared at the table while Thoros tried to calm down Brenda. Everyone in that room felt like a stranger to her.
"If The Hound is innocent then you have nothing to worry about," Thoros assured Brenda.
Brenda looked back at them, but mostly at The Hound now. Her dark eyes squinted as she examined him. "He does not look like the innocent type. You think this will calm me?" she whirled back around, facing Thoros. "Release Myrna this minute. She surely has nothing to do with this!"
"I will have the same fate as Sandor Clegane," Myrna said aloud, now looking up.
Everyone looked at her. Shyly, she glanced at him and saw The Hound gaping at her with soft eyes. Why did she get so angry when Brenda insulted The Hound? No matter the reason, Myrna was making it known she was on The Hound's side. He claims to have done nothing to them and Myrna knew he would never lie.
"I've heard things about The Hound, Myrna. He is no man you want to be with!" Brenda exclaimed as she put her hands on her wide hips. "Why are you even with him? What happened to Desmond?" she went on with a motherly tone to her voice.
Myrna opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her face turned red and she went right back to having her chin down. Does Brenda think she is with him?
"She's not my woman," The Hound strongly defended them for Myrna.
The conversation ended when the tavern door swung open and a proud looking man stepped in. The entire Brotherhood inside the tavern stood up and faced him. He wore a purple lightning on his chest, and a black cloak hung on his back. A longsword hung on his hip and he held the hilt as he gazed around the tavern. "We move again. We're heading straight to hollow hill," he commanded, and gave a quick look to Myrna and The Hound before turning back around and walking out.
"Beric Dondarrion?" The Hound rasped to himself.
All the men immediately poured out the door, following the man. Is he their leader? It seems The Hound knows him. Myrna wondered as a man pulled her up and out of her seat, but more gently this time as Brenda had an eye on him. She had to walk quickly to keep up with the man, and soon her and The Hound were thrown onto the same wagon except this time they had more company. Brenda hopped on and sat next to her with a concerned look on her face, but she smiled all the same.
A man on the side of the wagon handed Brenda two empty woolen bags and gave her the command to put them on Myrna and The Hound. Clenching her teeth, she obeyed. First she placed it over The Hound's head, with the clear look of disgust on her face. It was hard for her to look at his burn. Then she knelt down in front of Myrna.
"I'm sorry, sweetling..." she apologized as she gently put the bag on her head. Everything went dark and the bag smelled of wheat. In a matter of moments she heard the wagon slowly creak as the wheels began turning and soon they were bumping along the road again.
Soon her back ached horribly, and she had to deal with it for a long time. She wished the ride would soon be over but at the same time she was afraid what would happen when they stopped. Thoros claimed there would be a trial, but how fair were these men?
Brenda's hushed voice whispered near the side of her face. "I won't let them hurt you," she promised.
Those words made everything surreal. Was she really ready to face the same punishment as The Hound if he were to be found guilty? His punishment was likely to be death. If Brenda kept her word, she had nothing to fear but not even Brenda could defend her against all these men. Somehow if she could get untied she could probably run for it but she would never forgive herself for leaving behind The Hound. She is all he has, and she knew no one else would stand up for him. Her thoughts disappeared when she felt a jerk from the wagon coming to a halt and she nearly toppled over but Brenda grabbed onto her. Feet jumped up onto the wagon, and someone bigger than Brenda picked her up. They did not take off the bag so early this time. After walking some ways downhill, she felt her toe scrap against an unexpected rock and nearly tripped.
"Careful, young lady..." the man holding onto her warned her.
The further down they went, the hotter it became. Soon Myrna was sweating and she wished for fresh cool air. She wanted to wipe beads of sweat off her forehead and neck but her arms were still tied down against her waist. Finally they came to a stop and the bag came flying off her. When Myrna looked around all she saw were small fires lit in random spots on a cave floor, and some torches hung along the wet walls. She felt a tug on her rope and instantly she felt relief as the ropes were cut off and fell to the ground. Myrna rubbed her upper arms where the ropes had been digging into her skin. Her back also ached but she held herself back from rubbing it, not wanting anyone to see she was hurt there. Soon came The Hound, and he still was blinded from the bag but once the men helped him to his spot they took his off just as quick as they did to her. They did not remove his ropes, though. Myrna knew they weren't that stupid.
The entire Brotherhood circled them. Myrna spotted Brenda among them, and there were other women too dressed as she was. So you ended up going back to your old habits, Myrna disappointedly thought. Brenda had been a whore most of her life, or so she told Myrna back when they lived at Beaumont Hall. Nicholas had fallen in love with her, and together they had a rocky relationship that deserved a song. Brenda swore to never return to her old job but there she was. It seemed Brenda knew what Myrna was thinking but her mind was occupied with other things, most likely this trial.
"You sons of whores are all cowards," The Hound barked at them. He had sweat dripping from his forehead and his burn glistened red against the light from the flames. Myrna could see some fear in his eyes but figured he was doing his best to not be afraid. Why would he be afraid in the first place, she wondered. He was one of the strongest warriors in Westeros.
"And the King's guard dog that ran away from the Blackwater battle is no coward?" a voice boomed from within the crowd, and men stepped aside to reveal the man that had led them out of the tavern. Now his sword was in his right hand, and on his left he held a shield that had a matching purple lightning bolt from his vest.
Myrna took a step back while examining him. Then she looked to The Hound and he back at her. "Sandor is no coward," she tried to defend him. "Even if he did run, why put him on trial for it? He did not abandon you," Myrna went on but felt she only made it sound worse.
"I'm afraid that is not the reason he is here," Beric remarked.
A man she did not recognized stepped out from the crowd. "The Lannister's have slain too many. Each of us has seen countless of loved ones fall to Lannister swords. House Clegane especially has taken advantage of our lives just so you can please those monsters you serve," he sneered.
"The Targaryen children were laid in front of the throne before my own eyes. House Clegane was built upon the deaths of innocence," Thoros added.
The Hound growled. "My brother did that. I was never there!" he roared. "If you want to call me a murderer than give me names of real men I have cut," The Hound walked around, staring at the crowd. Nearly every man in the crowd began shouting names but with every name it only angered The Hound more. He claimed to have never killed any of them or even heard their names. That infuriated Myrna. These men were putting him on trial for crimes he did not commit? Sure, he was notorious for killing but he is also well known for speaking the truth. If The Hound killed someone he would not be afraid in the least to admit it. In fact he wanted you to know.
"You murdered my friend! You killed Mycah!" a small voice cried out. Myrna watched as a dirty child pushed himself out of the crowd so he could be heard. There had never been a more angry expression on a child's face.
The Hound took a few steps so he could see who was accusing him. "Who're you, boy?" he snarled, his scar pulling his face in an unpleasant manner.
"I'm not a boy, I'm a girl! And you killed the butchers boy, my friend Mycah!" the tomboy shouted.
For a second The Hound was puzzled but then he came to a realization. "Seven hells, you're the young Stark girl. How the hell did you end up here?"
Stark? Myrna blinked as she looked back at the boy who was now a girl. She remembered Sansa mentioning her younger sister but she couldn't remember the name. Was this truly Sansa's sister in front of them? How did she end up with men like this? So many questions ran through her head in a short amount of time but she had to listen to the rest of the trial.
"Do you admit to killing this Mycah?" Beric intervened.
Myrna looked at The Hound with uncertainty. This did not sound good.
"Aye, the boy attacked the prince. It was my duty to protect him," The Hound stated.
The Stark girl yelled again. "He didn't attack Joffrey. I did! He just ran away and you killed him!"
"It's not my place to question princes!" The Hound shouted back.
Beric stepped in and raised his sword to signal everyone to calm down. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts and everyone waited for him to say something. "No one here knows the truth or falsehood so it is not for us to decide but our God," he called out. Myrna saw the look on the young Stark girl's face turn into a devastated one. "This will be solved by a trial by combat," he eyed The Hound.
A twisted smile appeared on The Hound's face. "You're mad," he cackled. "Alright. So who will it be? Who wants to die today?" he walked in a small circle to face the crowd around them.
"Not so fast, dog. The Lord of Light spoke to me and commanded me to give you a champion," Beric softly said and the only other noise within the cave were the crackling of the flames. "As will I have my own champion..." he swiftly turned and looked upon his crowd.
The Hound took a few steps toward Beric but stopped knowing he could not do anything without his arms. "What do you mean I can't fight my own battle!?" he roared, spit flying out of his mouth. Myrna heard Thoros chuckle at him.
Beric ignored The Hound's objection. "Who will be the champion for The Hound?" he asked the crowd.
No one will willingly be his champion, Myrna knew. Looking at the faces in the crowd all she saw were sneers and glowering eyes, including the young girl and Brenda. These people wanted The Hound's brother dead. They despised House Clegane, including The Hound. It would be ridiculous for them to allow him to fight, and Myrna was sure the "lord of light speaking to him" was folly. The Hound would win the battle in a heartbeat and these men knew that. There was nothing else that she could do but this one thing. Her heart began to race and she held her breathe before taking a step toward the leader.
"I will be Sandor Clegane's champion!" Myrna cried out.