Earlier that day everyone was taking a break from the wagon ride and minded their own business that sunny afternoon. A few days before they had encountered Baelish and so far successfully avoided him. Brenda gave Myrna a pile of clothes that were more comfortable than the dress she had on at the capital but without a word or a glance. Now she wore red cotton breeches that had a pocket big enough for her dagger and a brown cotton tunic that had a loose fit. There was even a comb for her to brush her long black locks with.
In the middle of her combing out the snarls in her hair as she sat on the edge of the wagon she looked around their small group out of curiosity. Nicholas and Brenda would display affection in front of everyone from time to time, and Sansa and Arya would stay close together as if to make up all the time they had spent apart. Often they would quietly gossip and Myrna worried they might have been talking about her. The four of them acted indifferent around Myrna. Sansa especially, but she was the only one with good reason. Sandor kept a wary eye on Nicholas and Brenda, not wanting to have them leave his sight for a minute. Myrna saw him relaxing against a trunk of a tree while snacking on some berries as he watched.
A break was needed from it all. After combing her hair she threw the comb into an open sack on the wagon and slid off the wagon to explore. Myrna was attracted to this nearby location, or maybe she just picked a random direction to wander off to but when walking upon it she discovered this amazing view that she now stood in. The Crownlands were more beautiful than she remembered from her earlier travels with her childhood friend, but soon they will pass by these lands and the North will greet them with a dry, dead climate. Then she wondered what Nicholas truly had planned to happen in the North. It was not like she was about to walk up to him and ask anytime soon, but she needed to know somehow. Perhaps Brenda could speak with her when she wasn't busy putting her tongue in his mouth or just completely ignoring her presence.
"Beautiful, just like you…" she heard come from behind.
Myrna whirled around and tried to hide any fear she felt as Nicholas approached her with a smile on his face. What timing he had, to appear as she thought about how she planned on avoiding him. A memory suddenly popped into her head; she remembered the way he had tear stricken cheeks as he stood over the burning corpses of their parents. The Nicholas she saw before her looked so similar yet so different.
She watched as he paced next to her and stopped to gaze out at the field. His thick, dark curls were piled around his head and he was in need of a haircut. He used to be so neat, back when mother was alive to scold him for allowing his hair to become so wild. Nicholas the wildling boy, their mother would jape. Now she was gone, and their father… There was no way she could be friendly with him. No way in the Seven hells. Myrna found some bravery that was still left in her. "What do you want?" she quipped.
"I need you to be my sister again," he said almost sincerely.
"Don't you dare think you can talk to me that way," Myrna spat at him while taking a step forward and he took a step back in shock. In a fury she continued to approach him slowly and he kept his distance by walking backwards. "Eight years ago, Nicholas! Do you not remember what you did eight years ago? The damage you did to everyone we loved? You might as well have killed me instead of letting me suffer this hell!"
Nicholas bit his lip and spoke up. "Sister, you do not know the whole story…"
"A story? Oh, a story! As if that will justify what you did!" Myrna screamed at his face and once she quieted down she moved in even closer and was an inch away from her brother's face. He refused to look at her but she could feel his quickened breath brush against her face. "I would rather be a Clegane than share the name Beaumont with the likes of you," she whispered harshly.
That hit a nerve and his eyes met hers. Their dark eyes looked deep into the other for what seemed like forever. Suddenly he grabbed for her neck and squeezed. It came as a surprise to Myrna and she gasped as she tried to claw his hands off of her. "I should have killed you, you say?" he continued to squeeze as Myrna attempted to gasp for air. "Do you still believe that?" he sounded disturbingly calm. Myrna had no choice but to shake her head and at last he released and air filled her lungs as she collapsed onto her knees. "The Mountain would never have shown you this mercy!"
Noisily, Myrna breathed in air and rubbed her throat. When she glanced up at Nicholas he returned her glare. "You bastard…" she threw one final insult at him.
Nicholas squatted down so he could be closer to her. His facial expression changed. A small smile formed on his lips. "Everything I do, sister…" he reached out to her and played with a curl resting on her shoulder, "…is for you," he softly told her.
Quickly she smacked his hand away and stared at him in disbelief. He giggled, and stood back up and made his way back to the wagon with such a confidence that made Myrna feel like she was hopeless against him.
It was quiet where she sat, now that her insane brother had left. Myrna adjusted herself so she could hug her knees close to her chest and she was deep in thought. Back when she was at the capital she remembered a conversation she had with the Mountain. He had told her how she should have been grateful he reached her first. That somehow her brother had become a changed man, a worse man than himself. Is that even possible? Could what he had said been true? Would Myrna have truly been safer with the mad dog? Now she was starting to wonder if she had made the right decision.
Part of her just wanted to remain here. Everyone back at camp seemed like an enemy to her now. Nicholas, Brenda, Arya, Sansa… Why should she even stay? They all dislike her in some way. Nicholas… Nicholas was obvious. Brenda is still in love with him, so Myrna has to be safe and say she would choose Nicholas over her. Myrna betrayed Sansa and even though everything worked out it doesn't change the fact she would have let her leave with Baelish. Arya is her younger sister and would side with her. "I can't be around them any longer…" she muttered to herself and hastily stood up and began walking further into the field, going at a slight downward slope. Fresh grass brushed against her ankles and her open palms would gently brush the tips of the grass blades. The humid air filled her lungs as she looked ahead toward the rolling hills in the distance.
"The fuck are you headed!?" she heard a voice call out from the top of the hill where she sat.
Myrna peered back and saw Sandor looking troubled as he watched her, his brown hair flying up occasionally and revealing his burn as he followed her down. The grass around them did not seem so tall compared to him. He caught up with her but she turned around stubbornly and continued to make her way to nowhere. He asked her the same question again except this time he pulled her back roughly but she hid that it hurt.
"Why do you need to know?" Myrna barked back at him.
He gave her a concerned look. "There are people who are a danger to you out there. You are smart enough to know it's not a good idea to be alone," he reminded her. After letting out a disgusted noise, Sandor grabbed her shoulder. "I can't do shit to save you when you're out there all by yourself," he gave a gesture out to the hills she was walking towards.
"You can't do shit when you're here!" Myrna accused him and Sandor removed his hand from her. "What happened when the Brotherhood found us? What happened when Gregor found us? You were of absolute no use! They caught you right along with me and it was up to me both times to save our sorry asses!" she screamed.
Sandor looked down to the ground. What have I done? Myrna thought as she watched him tighten his mouth and slightly nod. He turned around and walked back up the hill without a word. As she watched him pace up the hill she felt her chest grew heavy and her eyes watered. She choked back a sob but could not keep it down. The water in her eyes poured down and she turned back to face the clouds strolling over the green hills so he would not see. Her whole body felt heavy now and she made her way down into the tall grass and felt hidden enough around the green blades to comfortably let the sobs grow louder. The sadness she felt connected with every sadness she had ever felt in her life. The death of her parents, the death of her childhood friend Desmond, and everyone else she had lost all whirled in her mind along with the current situation she was in. Soon she began to lose the point in everything and looked down at her blade that had fallen out of her pocket when she sat down. Myrna slid her pale fingers over the flat end, and went to pick it up. With her other hand she made her palm face the sky and stared at her wrist longingly. At once a hand grabbed hers and made her drop the dagger.
"Seven hells! I am not leaving you alone ever again," Sandor growled as he used his other hand to confiscate her dagger and he put it away on himself.
Myrna struggled to be released from his grasp but the man who swiftly returned to her held on too tight. In fact, he pulled her in and onto his lap. Defeated, she continued to sob.
"I'm so sorry," she blurted out and he only responded by raising his hand to place it on top of her head. Myrna had to keep letting everything out. "He… hurt me," she managed to say through her tears.
"Nicholas?" Sandor asked as if he already knew the answer. "What did he do to you?" he added while straightening her up.
It was a struggle for Myrna to speak through her sobs, but she focused on her breathing for a minute before answering in order to calm herself. "Nicholas, he… He grabbed my throat when I was on top of that hill," she whimpered.
She felt Sandor's large hand push her hair aside and adjust her so he could look at her neck. The look in his eyes proved Nicholas had managed to leave marks. He removed his hand and let her dark curls fall back into place and held her tighter. "That fucking cunt, I knew I should have followed him sooner when he went off somewhere," he sounded regretful. "I don't want you alone ever from now on. Do you understand me? I go everywhere with you," he ordered.
"Why?" Myrna asked with an empty tone.
He paused for a moment before answering. "For your safety," he replied.
"Why do you care about my safety?" Myrna questioned.
An agitated noise came from the man. "I don't bloody know," was the best comeback he could think of.
They sat like that for some time. It was so quiet and she did not want to disturb the peace she suddenly felt. How could such an enraged man make her feel serene? Perhaps she had found someone who could truly be there for her. Even more so than anyone in her past. A temper was something she could handle, and Myrna believed his tantrums would be less frequent once they found a place to settle. Myrna suddenly found herself wanting to ask him more questions about himself and what plans he had. She wanted to know this man inside and out, and hear what troubles him when he finds himself overthinking. He deserved the comfort he offered to her returned back to him.
"I've killed people nearly my whole life," Sandor began and Myrna perked her head up. "Sometimes it was just for entertainment, especially under that cunt Joffrey. But most of the time it was to protect," he explained.
Myrna rested her head against his chest. The breastplate was cool against her cheek. "So it's just in you to protect and serve? That's all?" Myrna wanted to confirm, feeling dumb for her thoughts.
He let out a hoarse chuckle. "Maybe you are stupid. Take a look at us," he mocked her but in a warm way. It made her smile.
A noise alerted them from behind, and both turned their heads at the same time to look at who was there.
"Ew…" Arya wrinkled her nose at them.
Myrna gasped and roughly pushed herself off Sandor and looked around like nothing had happened while playing with her hair. Sandor did the same thing and brushed himself off and then rubbed his head.
"Don't you have anything better to do than spy on us!?" he growled at the young girl.
"Nicholas sent me. We have to get back on the road," she said while eyeing them before going back to where they had parked the wagon.
An awkward silence was now between her and Sandor. Myrna watched Arya disappear over the hill and dreaded going back up there. Just hearing her brother's name made her feel ill. That must have been obvious to see on her face as Sandor warmed up again and went to stand near her. "You stay close," he reminded her softly.
After finding the courage to walk back up, she went to grab onto Sandor's bicep and nodded while peering up at him. Myrna by now was accustomed to the ruins on his face, and the way he looked back at her showed he appreciated that. They carved their way through the overgrown grass and to the top of the hill side by side. I'll continue to face them, if you're here… Myrna promised silently.