A stream of people poured out of the Throne Room. Their voices were hushed, but they still made enough noise to irritate her. It gave her fuel to want to lash out and do whatever she wanted to do. How could Joffrey do this to me? Myrna gritted her teeth. As people walked towards the back of the room Myrna rushed forward towards The Hound, barely escaping the knight's hands. The Hound heard her running towards him, and he turned around as best he could to face her. His arms extended when he saw her close in on him. Myrna threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his torso. When she heard the knights come closer she felt The Hound wrap his arms her tightly as if to protect her from them, the cold metal of his armor chilling her where her skin was exposed.

"Let her go..." one knight ordered The Hound warily.

A chuckle came from the throne. "You two are afraid of a dog that is in chains? You're pathetic," Joffrey taunted them. "Away with her. Now!" he spat an order.

Myrna kept her face buried in The Hound's breastplate. She did not ever want to let go. Once she did he would belong to Sansa. Every person she ever grew to care for has always been ripped away from her in some way. It was not fair. "He can't do this..." Myrna whispered, her voice slight muffled by speaking into his chest.

"I'm afraid he can...for now," The Hound quietly rasped down at her. He pulled her off of him with his large hands and sent her off with the knights, but not without a threatening glare. The knights quickly grabbed her arms and she kept looking over her shoulder at The Hound as they marched her out of the Throne Room. As she was being forced out she caught the attention of Sansa Stark. The girl silently stood just a few feet away from her in a single spot. The knights pulled Myrna passed the girl but their eyes glued to each other despite people from the crowd walking in between them. Everything seemed to slow down for a moment. Was that pity in the Sansa's eyes? Or something else? Before she realized it, Myrna was forced to go around the corner of the Throne Room door and both Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane disappeared from view. Her heart sank.

Myrna began to struggle again, and this time one of the knights took the flat of his sword and struck her calf. With a yelp, Myrna collapsed onto the ground and panted as she rubbed where he had struck her. She thanked the Gods it wasn't her bad leg he hit.

"Do you want another lesson!?" the knight growled down at her as the other circled around to face her as well.

Myrna brushed her hair off her face and glared up at him. "The next time I see Gregor... I will tell him who is bruising his bride," she threatened.

The knight stood still. Myrna could not tell what he was thinking because of the helm covering his face but from the long pause she figured her quick wit scared some sense into him. Without a word he propped her back up on her feet and both of the knights continued to escort her back to her chamber. Once again she stared at the ground in front of her so she would avoid the stares from anyone who happened to pass her by. It seemed everyone thought The Hound and her were smitten with one another, which was only somewhat true but mostly false. Nothing real ever happened between them during their short journey together outside of King's Landing. Although the way he wrapped his arms around her in the Throne Room gave her hope that maybe he was still willing to give her a chance if they could climb out of this hole.

They came to a halt and Myrna looked to the side expecting to see her bed chamber door but instead there was nothing but a stone wall. Once she looked forward she saw Gregor Clegane making his way towards them, and the knights let go of Myrna and took a step back. Myrna held her breath as the man grew taller and taller with every step he took towards her. He put a finger under her chin when he was close enough to make her look up at him. An eerie smile tightened his face. "Your big, dark eyes... I always liked them," he rasped so deep it sounded like his words were stuck in his throat.

"Your bride showed affection towards The Hound in front of the king, ser. I thought you might want to know that," the knight who struck her blurted out.

Gregor's grip tightened on Myrna's chin and it made her wince and whine. The smile disappeared. You bastard, she thought as she tried to remove Gregor's hand with both her hands but it only made him tighten his grip more. "Leave," Gregor boomed. At once they were left alone in the corridor and the only noise that was heard was Myrna's whimpers.

"Let go! You're hurting me," Myrna loosened her grip on Gregor's hand, giving up.

He took away his hand, just as she requested. Myrna stared at him and stood as still as she could manage. Then at once his fist flew at her, making impact with her jaw. Myrna went flying into the stone wall and her head struck it hard but she caught herself with her arms. Then she felt her hair being yanked from behind, and she landed on her back on the pavement. Myrna squeezed her eyes shut when she felt herself fall, and when she opened them she saw a longsword pointing at her neck and Gregor was holding the blade. At that moment she feared for her life.

"That man... he lied! I did no such thing. To be quite honest... he struck me with his sword right before we ran into you," Myrna put as much sweetness as she could into her voice so her half-lie was believable. Gregor's eyes narrowed when he heard that.

He grumbled before speaking. "That the truth?" he bellowed, putting more pressure onto the blade.

Myrna pointed down at her leg. "Look at the back of my knee... I swear, 'tis the truth," she begged and when Gregor used the toe of his boot to move her skirt the red mark was revealed. Gregor grinded his teeth, and Myrna felt she had a small victory. At least one man will get what is coming to him. After that Gregor put his sword back into its sheath but he kept his hand firmly on the hilt. He turned and began walking down where the knights had left, and Myrna sat herself up and was slightly muddled. "What... What about locking me up?" she called out to him.

He stopped and turned stiffly to face her. "Are you planning on running away?" he stared at her hard. Myrna shook her head promptly. "Then there is no need to lock you up anymore. My brother... you cannot reach him anyway," Gregor made a deep, rumbling noise that Myrna believed was a laugh before turning back around and walking down the corridor.

What does he mean by that? Myrna was worried about The Hound. She wondered where they were keeping him and where they meant to put him after he married Sansa. Thinking about watching him marrying her made her queasy. Then thinking about her own marriage made her feel even worse. Sighing, she found her feet and when she moved her jaw it hurt like the Seven hells. Myrna gently touched it to make sure nothing was broken, and she was confident she would be fine. As she made her way to her chamber she shook off all the negative thoughts she kept in her head. Gregor now allowed her some freedom, and all she needed was an unlocked door at night. The letter, she recalled, said that a "mockingbird" was willing to help her and whoever they were walked past her chamber every evening. There is a price, though. That weighed heavy on her mind.

...

Impatience made her wait outside her chamber door. Myrna sat with her back against the rough boards of her door and had her legs stretched out in front of her. Occasionally she would flatten out her dress and examine the bandages on her hand as she waited. The first time she heard footsteps come from down the corridor they were only handmaidens who stared at her funny as they walked past her. Myrna doubted they were of any help. After letting out a heavy sigh, Myrna crossed her arms across her chest and watched the shadows in the hallway grow longer as the sun began to set.

Her thoughts went to Brenda and Arya. If they had been caught, too, wouldn't they have been in the Throne Room as well? Myrna was beginning to feel guilty for everything that had happened before the Mountain found them. She could have held back some words, or at least not have been so harsh. Remembering the way Brenda wept made her realize that she still loved her brother. Seven years, and Brenda still had feelings for Nicholas. Myrna had to apologize if she ever had the chance to see Brenda.

Hopefully Arya was with Brenda. The girl would be safe with her. Maybe if Sansa wasn't too angry with Myrna, for whatever reason, she could talk to her about how she met Arya. When the Mountain had encountered them she remembered the fear in Arya's eyes. They had mostly fought during their time together, but she looked genuinely worried for Myrna during that last minute. How did The Hound react when Arya told him the Mountain had caught her? Did she even make it back to the Hound and Brenda?

A noise caught her attention. Soft footsteps quickly made their way towards her, and she uncrossed her arms and sat herself up straighter. The way she stretched made her back ache, but she ignored the pain. When the figure was closer she saw it was a tall, lean man. He wore a black velvet tunic and matching black breeches. A dark cloak flew behind him, and it was fastened around his neck with what looked like a mockingbird.

The mockingbird, she realized.

"Was it you who wrote me the letter?" Myrna abruptly asked the man as she stood up to greet him.

He turned around to peer down the corridor and then back at her with his index finger brought up to his lips to signal to lower her voice. "I am here to help you, m'lady. My name is Petyr Baelish," he introduced himself in a hush tone and he slightly bowed. His eyes kept glancing at her jaw. A bruise must have formed.

Myrna had heard of this man now that she thought about it. She somewhat recalled seeing him wander around the Red Keep as well but she could not be too certain if she could trust this Petyr Baelish. This man had rumors that questioned his loyalty. Will this man keep his word? "Do you know where they are keeping Sandor Clegane?" she asked first, pushing her doubts aside for the moment.

"Sandor Clegane is locked up in a cell in the dungeons. I'm afraid he has to stay there until he is wedded to Sansa Stark, and even then will not have privileges until you are sent off to Clegane Hall after your marriage," he explained softly.

"So what am I to do?" she muttered.

Baelish smiled. "Well, first you have to tell me what you want..."

"I want out of here!" Myrna replied as if her answer was obvious.

"Yes, but with or without Sandor Clegane?" he asked further.

Myrna paused before answering. "With," she decided.

"That will be more difficult. Are you sure you want to risk it? He has a pretty bride with a big name. Any man would be happy with that, I would think..." Baelish smirked and it made Myrna uneasy. Once again he peered down the empty corridor and then back at her. "I would feel more comfortable if we could continue this conversation in a more private area," he leaned in towards her and spoke in a much softer tone. After getting the hint, Myrna nodded and she turned around to open her door to her chamber. When she walked in Baelish was quick to follow and he gently closed the door behind him. He paused for a few seconds before swiftly turning around to face her again with a smile on his face.

"You said there is a price," Myrna began. It had just occurred to her that they are now alone in her bedchamber. Was this the kind of payment this man wanted? It made her stomach turn.

Baelish took a couple more steps inside and looked around the room. "There is always a price, but I will speak of that later. I must be honest with you, Myrna. There is no way in my power that I can stop Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane from marrying. The wedding is being held tomorrow night," he explained.

"So soon!?" Myrna cried out, not wanting to believe what she just heard.

He made a sudden movement towards her and lifted her chin with his finger so she would look him in the eye. "Deep in their hearts, they are not man and wife. I would not fear anything, sweetheart. The important thing here is that there is time for me to smuggle you out of this city before you are wed to Gregor Clegane..."

"When will that be?" she asked as her eyes darted back and forth between his still grey eyes.

"Not for awhile. Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane happen to be Joffrey's favorite toys. He will initially give them all his attention while you wait for your turn," he smirked.

Angry, she shook her head and broke Baelish's grasp on her chin. "That's what I don't understand! I thought Sansa was going to marry Joffrey. Why would he just give away his bride to Sandor?"

"The Tyrell's helped save the city from being sacked by Stannis Baratheon, and that lead to Margaery Tyrell becoming Joffrey's new bride. That makes Sansa Stark available for anyone," he said in a rather sinister tone that Myrna did not like. There was an awkward pause.

"So... What exactly do I have to do?" she stammered.

He did not respond right away. Baelish walked over to her vanity and sat himself down slowly on the wooden stool facing her. His eyes examined her and she felt uncomfortable but frozen at the same time. Myrna wanted to move away from his eyes so badly. "I realize this may be difficult for you to perform, but you must in order to successfully leave this city. My dear, you have to befriend Sansa Stark and persuade her to fly away with you, and with her husband..."

"Why does Sansa have to come with?" Myrna found herself saying in a rather disgusted tone. It surprised herself. Had she really become so jealous?

Baelish seemed to have picked up the bitterness in her voice and grinned. "Why, that is my payment. After we exit the walls of the city we will make a trade. I will leave for the Eyrie with Sansa to meet up with her aunt and you can go with Sandor to the North where my friend will be taking you. He claims to have ties with the once great Beaumont Hall. I was sure you would enjoy that news," he softened his voice.

"You... want me to betray Sansa?" she muttered under her breath. Despite the jealousy, she did not know if she could do that to Sansa. Petyr Baelish seemed to be an untrustworthy man with deep issues. What did he plan on doing with her? Then the idea if going back home started to settle in. When Baelish told her that bit it was like a hit that took her by surprise. Before, Sandor and her did not have a goal. This time they would have a light at the end of the tunnel. There is something out there for the both of them. Was giving Sansa away to this man worth it? "I... I have no other option, do I?" Myrna said aloud.

"I'm afraid you do not," Baelish replied.

Myrna squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered. Then she nodded.

"Good girl," he rasped and Myrna opened her eyes to see him rise off the stool swiftly and he walked past her towards her door. "I cannot give you an exact time or tell you exactly how this will play out. But trust me, you will know when the time has come," he gave her a hard look before opening her door.

"Wait... Do you think... I could see Sandor?" Myrna asked.

Baelish stared at her and softly closed the door again. "How much time do you need?" he asked.

"I just want to make sure he is alright," she hugged herself, feeling somewhat odd by the words she said to Baelish.

He looked down to the ground as he thought and then he looked at her when he found his answer. "Gregor Clegane has business with Tywin Lannister tonight. Plus, the wedding is tomorrow so..." he trailed off as he went deeper into thought. This man was careful. "Yes, I suppose you are the appropriate messenger for our little plan. Come," he opened the door quietly and Myrna quickly stepped out while pulling on her skirt so she would not trip.

Suddenly she felt a hand grip her shoulder and Myrna could feel hot air from Baelish's mouth on her neck. "I did not show you where they are keeping Sandor Clegane," he threatened her from behind. "It's surprisingly easy how people die so quick down in those cells. Hopefully your friend lives long enough to get out," he whispered and Myrna watched him swerve around her and begin walking down the dark corridor as if he had done nothing. Myrna shuddered. After inhaling and exhaling to calm herself, she once again began walking behind Baelish and followed him. "Remember the way there, I will not be able to escort you back," he added once they turned a corner. They walked a ways until they started approaching a small tower that was hard to see now that the sun had gone down. Once they approached the tower entrance door Baelish opened it cautiously and peered in. He peeked over his shoulder and turned his body so Myrna could walk in.

After she found her way inside she came to a slow stop and shivered. This place was cold, and it was only the main floor. A sudden click from behind made her jump. Baelish has closed the door and left her on her own. Somehow she was more relieved than worried. There would have been plenty of light in this room if it were daylight. Up high close to the ceiling there were small windows in a line, but outside there was only the small glimmer from the moon. Myrna did not ask which floor The Hound was being kept in. Hopefully he was in the same room she was in right now.

The first cell she went by was empty. After that Myrna quickly walked by the second cell and there was a man sleeping on the floor, but it was not The Hound. Quietly now, so not to wake up any unwanted company, she checked the next one and once again there was nothing. She noticed that she was nearing the next flight of stairs that lead to the next floor of the dungeon and her hopes of having to avoid that were dying. Before needing to take the first step down there was one more cell on the main floor. When she peered in, it seemed like nothing was in there. It was dark, only a small torch lit in the right back corner. Though it seemed like there was something resting in the left back corner. Should she call out? A voice broke the silence before she could open her mouth. "Is it time already?" a dry, hoarse voice complained. Myrna was relieved by the familiarity of it.

"Sandor..." Myrna softly said his name as she confidently approached the rusty bars. "It's me," she tried her best to see him in the shadow.

She heard what sounded like a boot scraping against the pavement and hands smacking the wet stones in the shadowed corner. Then a silhouette took form and slowly the large man came into view with his armor clamoring and leather scrunching. Myrna was smiling but then the smile faded. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, and it was slightly swollen around his jaw. There was a slight nervous glance he made at the torch lit on the wall, but he braved it out and continued to march over to her. When he came closer and grabbed the cell bars she saw how empty his eyes looked, but there was a hint of confusion and sadness. "The fuck is wrong with you...?" he croaked.

"I just wanted to see you," she put her good hand over one of his large, dirty hands.

"Well, you see me..." he sighed.

Myrna blinked away tears. "Gregor?" she asked.

He nodded but then his eyes narrowed when he saw her face. "You too?" he rasped, commenting on her jaw. When she nodded back he cursed. "Fucking, bloody cunt... They told me no one would lay a hand on you!" he breathed funny, and winced as he rested his forehead against one of the bars. "Fucking seven hells... This is Gregor we're talkin' about. Why did I ever believe their stupid words?" his voice quivered slightly and he grew quiet.

Myrna tightened her grip on his hand and that made him look at her eyes. "Listen... we have a chance to get out," she told him and his eyes grew stern. "Petyr Baelish is giving us a chance to escape, and Sansa, too. We can all go North," she lied, knowing Sansa could not go North with them. It made her feel sick. Myrna knew The Hound hated liars, which is why she had to leave him in the dark too. First she had to get them out, no matter what. Then she would deal with the consequences.

"Baelish? That fucking worm? I wouldn't trust him with a bloody penny," he sounded annoyed.

Sighing, she looked at his hands and brushed her fingers gently over them as she held them. "We have to take any chance we can get," she defended herself. "The thing is... your marriage with Sansa is tomorrow. There's nothing we can do to stop it..."

The Hound looked down to the ground. It was quiet for a moment between them before The Hound tried speaking again. "If I don't, Joffrey will..."

"I know. He'll kill me," Myrna cut in.

At once The Hound pulled his hand away from the bar and escaped her grasp. Then he reached out between the space of the bars and pulled her in closer. They hugged with the bars between them. "Vows are just words, Myrna. You know what you have to do in order to be a knight? Make a bloody oath. I piss on those words. And how is a marriage any different? I just say a few words to the Stark girl, and I know she won't want to touch me during the bedding. Bitch never even looks at my face..." he cursed her, but it was gentle as if he didn't mean it truly. That gave Myrna mixed feelings. "What I'm trying to say is that there is nothing to worry about between her and I. What you should be worrying about is having to be near my cunt brother," he rasped.

"I also want to ask... do you know what happened to Brenda and Arya?" she softly asked but The Hound's response shocked her. He pulled away roughly from her and gave her an angry look that made his scar seem to pull on the rest of his face. "What happened?" she asked with a more concern tone.

The Hound shook his head, wisps of hair that he tried to keep over his burn fell out of place. "Listen to me, Myrna. I think Brenda was working for my brother this whole time," he replied.

"What!? How can you say that?" she snapped back.

"When my brother and his men came after us, they only went after me. That's why I was so easily taken down. They didn't fucking care about Brenda and Arya. She just took Arya and ran without a single knight running after her. For all we know, Brenda probably got all the ransom for herself from my brother. That's what we get for trusting a bloody whore," he grumbled.

Myrna grabbed the cell bars and squeezed. "No. That's not possible. Brenda blames The Mountain for everything that happened to my family and town!"

"That was seven years ago! Who knows what happened from then 'til now? Hells, maybe she was working for my brother back then too..." he rasped and that only angered Myrna more.

"Are you trying to say she's been lying to my face since the day I met her?" she spat. "That can't be true. Brenda loved Nicholas. There is no way she would side with the man that falsely accused my brother of murder and took away his knighthood!"

The look on The Hound's battered face made her calm herself down. He looked hurt, physically and emotionally. "Let's not worry about this now," he said almost gently.

Myrna nodded. "You're right," she told him, taming her voice. When she reached into his cell with her good hand he stared at it and then grabbed it with one of his hands. "Take care of yourself... And do whatever you need to do to keep us alive," Myrna told him. He blinked when she said that, as if what she said shocked him.

"Same here..." he bellowed and squeezed her hand before letting go. Myrna pulled herself away from the bars slowly, not wanting to leave him all alone in the dark and damp dungeon. Her lip trembled and she quickly turned and prattled passed all the cells. Once she reached the heavy entrance door she opened it slowly and slipped out when it was wide enough for her to come out. When she closed it Myrna pushed her back against the wooden frame and began to whimper. Her vision grew blurry and she put her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs. All of the doubts she held inside her from the moment she met Baelish that evening were now released and overwhelming her. After swallowing a few times and drying her cheeks, Myrna pushed herself away from the closed door and began making her way towards her chamber. There was a wedding to attend tomorrow, and she needed her rest.