Being back in Paris felt almost surreal. He'd been here, in this same station, with Arya almost a week ago.
The wave of emotion that hit him as he remembered that day, and how he'd been running with her, rather than after her, made him want to him something.
Almost a week ago.
They we're on their way to find Arya's family. Trying to remember the exact moment they became sidetracked was almost as exhausting as trying to keep himself from hitting something.
Those days he'd spent with her had merged into each other in his mind's eye, so that they felt like one big giant blob of snow, and faces, and trains, and running, and fear... and somewhere in there, mixed with all the chaos, were his growing feelings for Arya.
Those too, were too difficult to trace back to their root.
He wasn't sure when she stopped being simply that Stark girl. His boss' daughter... pain in the ass Arya, with her endless need to vandalize and destroy and resist his attempts to arrest her... and when she's become Arya. That strong girl that still drove him crazy, only a different kind of crazy.
When did I start calling her beautiful?
She'd always been beautiful.
The first time he arrested her, and pulled back her black hoodie, he took in a breath at the sight of her large, gray eyes. So wild and full of anger.
But he wasn't sure when she became beautiful in his eyes.
Was it the first time he saw her eyes... or the first time he saw her smile at the gym, when she had been ready to wrestle him.
Perhaps it was when he arrested her that second time, and she realized it was him, again, and her eyes had twinkled with the challenge.
Gendry shook his head, trying to make himself think of something else... someone else, and still fighting the urge to hit something. He leaned forward, closing his eyes and taking in deep breaths.
Sandor, who was sitting next to him, was too busy keeping an eye on everyone, and thankfully didn't notice anything.
They'd hidden the car they stole in an alley and had taken a cab to the train station.
When Gendry had told Sandor they'd have to dump their guns before they walked in, his thoughts trailed to Brienne.
"I have to make a phone call!" Gendry had walked ahead of the man in search for a phone.
"To who?" Sandor had complained.
"A friend. She's suppose to help us with the will. We were suppose to meet her."
"There's no time. We have to find Arya."
"Yes we do, but this is important too. And by doing this, I can find that Cersei woman, and finish this once and for all. That helps Arya... It helps RIckon. It helps everyone."
And with that, he'd stepped in front of the public phone and begun feeding the coins in.
He had to try Brienne three times for her to finally pick up. When she did, she didn't speak.
"Brienne?"
"Oh thank God Gendry! I thought you were someone else!"
"Who?"
"I.. I don't know. Everything's gone so wrong Gendry!"
"Wrong how?"
"Gendry... I've done something... Everything changed. I need you. I can't do this alone, Gendry. I don't know what I'm doing anymore!"
"Brienne! Breath. Relax. What happened."
"Too much. Renly... Ren...It's too much Gendry. It's too much."
"Brienne. What happened?"
"There's been a change of plans. You're more involved than I thought. I need you to meet me...I can't talk. I can't talk, I have to go back inside. I just came out for fire wood. You have to meet me here."
"Brienne.."
"Get something to write these directions with! I need you to come to me."
Gendry opened his eyes, reaching into his pocket to pull out the wrinkled receipt he'd found in the wallet he'd stolen off the man back in Bordeaux. His messy writing on the back, with the directions to the cabin Brienne was in.
It had been so hard to convince Sandor this wasn't a trap, when he himself wasn't fully convinced.
"I know this place." Sandor said, slapping the receipt onto Gendry's chest as he walked past him and towards the station. "It belongs to the Lannisters. It's a trap. They have your friend."
"NO! She's there, and she needs me. I know her. She would have done anything to hint me there was someone else behind this. She's a cop too. She sounded panicked, and scared, and that would have been the last thing she would sound like if this really was a trap."
"You're a fool if you believe that. We're not going!"
"I am going! " Gendry yelled, making Sandor stop in his tracks, turning to face him.
He was about to say something, but Gendry interrupted. "
You can go your own way if you'd like. Find Arya your own way; keep your promise. But I'm going to this cabin, and I'm going to help my friend, and we're going to find Arya... Because that's all I can handle right now, cause there is something else happening here. Something that involves me. And if it weren't for that girl, I don't know where I'd be, but I certainly would have lost it by now...Helping her, has kept me sane. Because this is insane, Sandor. This is mad. What the fuck is going on? Why is Ned Stark dead? How? Arya's family . . . Yoren. It's too much, and I feel I can't trust anyone, and I don't want to feel that. But nothing makes sense It's all so... wretched. . . . . But I'm going to find her. . . . I'm going to find her. Because it's the only thing that makes sense right now. It's all that really matter to me, and I'm not letting go of that."
Gendry eyes trailed from the wrinkled piece of paper to Sandor's face. It was the side of his face that was clean. Not burns.
He still couldn't believe he was sitting next to him. Gendry really didn't expect him to come. Especially when he insisted it was a trap.
Whatever his reasons... Sansa, the promise, Arya and Rickon... Gendry couldn't help but hate that he felt relieved that he stayed.
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He'd been 12 when he first noticed his sister's body begin to change.
The outline of a bra was now visible under her blouses and dresses, and the small swells on her chest we're growing more and more each day.
Their mother found them wrestling in the lawn once, Cersei was on top of him, each leg pinning down his arms, and she'd shrieked in horror, making his sister jump off him.
After that, they spent the most humiliating hour and a half listening to her talk about propriety, and sex, and their changing bodies. Jaime didn't really catch on right away.
Not until that night, when Cersei had snuck into his bedroom, and slipped into his bed, snuggling into his chest.
"Can you believe her." she had murmured against his night shirt. "To think you and I would ever do something so athrocious. We're twins!"
Realization had washed over him in a sickening way as soon as she had said that.
He loved Cersei, he loved her more than anyone in the world. She was the only person that truly understood him. She was the only person he could talk to, and be himself with.
There was no secrets between them.
But he would never think about her in the way their mother feared. He didn't even think about any girls that way yet.
"She'd just jealous Jaime." Cersei had said, looking up at him through her lashes. "They're all just jealous. . . They want to tear us apart because we have something special, you and I. You feel it too, don't you?"
He had merely nodded, wrapping an arm around her and digging his nose into her hair. Lavender.
She had always loved the smell of lavenders.
"Promise me Jaime!" Cersie had sprung from his chest, sitting and pulling him up so he too, had to sit. "Promise me you'll never let anyone come between us. . . nothing tear us apart."
He shook his head. "Never."
"You love me right?" tears had begun to well in her eyes. "We have something special, don't we? Something nothing and no one can ever destroy?"
"Yes." he had whispered out, pulling her into a hug. "Yes, I love you. We're special, sister. Nothing will ever come between us. Never."
"Never." he whispered out, as the small little fingers of fiery pain dug into his flesh at each one of the burns in his back and chest.
"What did you say?" the Wench's deep voice asked from the door as she walked into the room, snow flaking her limp blonde hair and shoulders.
"Nothing." he snapped acidly as she bent near the fireplace, dropping the firewood she had in her arms.
She shrugged out of her thick jacket, and turned, walking up to him awkwardly, the rage and fire that had been in her large blue eyes the day before completely absent today.
This was definitely the first time she'd ever done anything like this, to anyone.
He would bet anything that she'd never even shot a person before. Even if she was a cop.
The way she was looking at him, it almost looked like she felt sorry for him.
She bent down on one knee before him, looking him straight in the eyes. "Are you hungry?" she asked, almost tenderly.
His brows twitched.
He'd been in so much pain, that he hadn't realized just how hungry he was. He had sick all over his pant from last night, when he began to cough up vomit in his fevered sleep, so he knew he was on an empty stomach, and that last meal he'd had was over a day ago.
"Yes." he answered her.
She nodded. "Good." she said in a small voice. "Are you ready to talk?"
Jaime smiled, beginnings to laugh, but he hissed out in pain instead.
"The sooner you talk, the sooner I can start treating your burns." she told him.
Jaime shook his head, his eyes closed tightly as currents of pain dug into him. "I'm never, going to talk. You're ... wasting your time." he managed to say.
"Time I have. What I no longer have, is flesh to burn... so I'll move to removal of body parts."
Jaime didn't believe her. She didn't have it in her.
"Why do you hate me so much?" Jaime chimed, meeting her eyes once more. "I don't recall ever doing anything to you."
"Renly is dead because of you. You and that..."
"I didn't pull the trigger."
"You just stood there!"
"I didn't just stand there when the gun was pointed at you. Did you forget that?"
"Well that didn't help Renly, did it." he saw tears in her eyes, but she wiped them off quickly, before they fell. He rolled his eyes.
"What was he to you, anyway? Just a roommate? He was gay, you know? Did you know that? We're you in love with him?"
The back of her hand hit him across the face, making his body slump to one side. The movement causing his back to scrape against the back of the chair, making his burns fire up with life.
His head hung as he closed his eyes, his chest began heaving as he began to cry with pain, which only cause him more pain.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand the meaning of friendship." her voice came from across the room.
He wanted her to shut up. Her voice somehow made the pain more potent. It gave him nausea.
Cersei.
He repeated her name in his head, almost like a prayer. The only word, the only name that kept him strong.
The pain was still lacing deeper into his body though, perhaps deeper than when the skin had first been scorched, and he felt beads of sweat slide down limp tresses of his hair.
"The first time I met him, was in Psychology class. All the girls were crazy about him... But he picked me out of all the girls in the classroom to be his partner for a project. It was about planning out your wedding."
Jaime's eyes snapped open. The burns we're still throbbing, but he was able move, his neck once more holding his head up.
The wench had both hands resting on the mantel of the fireplace .Her arms were lean and slightly muscled, as she put her entire weight on them.
She was staring at the flames, lost in her memories. Her face glowing a soft orange from the fire.
She looked... beautiful.
The wood crackled almost pleasantly, and for a moment, Jaime almost lost himself in the beautiful melancholy of it all.
"Later I found out he only picked me because he thought I was a lesbian." she said, plucking him away from the moment, and once again, the pain was back. And the disgust towards her.
She turned away from the fire and towards him, chuckling bitterly to herself.
She had been in love with him.
"We became inseparable after that. He was..."
"You never told him, did you?" Jaime asked curiously, though he knew the answer to the question. "That you weren't a lesbian... and later, that you were in love with him."
Her features quickly twisted from sadness to anger, answering his question.
"No. Of course you didn't. It was better to stay quiet, with your unrequited love... than to risk loosing him."
She took a few steps towards him. "Do not provoke me!"
Jaime laughed, ignoring the pain. "To what? To hurt me further? Go on! Go ahead then!" he yelled, completely changing his tone from humorous to daring. "Cut my fingers off! Cut my toes, Cut my hands... My manhood! I dare you Brienne! I want to see you take those tools, and cut me to pieces, little by little, and watch the look on your face as you realize that I won't tell you anything! I won't! Because I have a love too! And the love between a brother and his sister is stronger than any silly girl crush you may have had on Renly."
He felt five times stronger as soon as he finished talking, almost as if his own words had been a sort of pep talk.
To his disappointment, though, it faded away too quickly as soon as he noticed not even a flinch from Brienne at his words, when what he wanted most was to spite her.
He sighed, looking away from her blue eyes, and to the floor, hating the deflated feeling he was being left with.
"Water." he said, lifting his gaze once more to meet hers, deciding to use the last of the buzz he'd given himself. "At least water. It'll be useless to you if I'm dead."
"You can survive without water for three days." she said in an irritated tone, but she still walked towards the kitchen, and Jaime could hear her rummaging through the cupboards and the hissing sound of tap water filling a glass.
He tried to put all his weight on his legs, so see if he could hop over to the table, with hands tied to the chair and all, and grab something to cut his binds with.
But as soon as he moved, the burns began to throb.
She walked back into the lounge, with a glass of water in her hand, and at first, he though she would do something nasty, like pour the water on the floor and make tell him to try and lean down and lick lap it up... But to his surprise, she grabbed his face, careful not to brush against a burn he had in his collarbone, and she place the cup to his lips, tilting it carefully.
"Slowly." she said as he drank it in gulps, ignoring her, and relishing every mouthful, as the cool liquid slid silkily down his throat and into his ravenous stomach.
As soon as the last drop was in his mouth, he pulled away from the cup, giving himself enough time to utter his thanks before he smashed his face into hers, hearing a crunch as she fell back.
Pain shot through his head, and his burns seared, but he uttered his sister's name, draining every last ounce of strength from those six little letters, to lifts his legs off the floor, against all the pain he felt, and slamming them down on the large woman's head.
A gush of blood flew out of her mouth, or her nose, before she crawled away from him, and quickly stood, stumbling towards him dizzily.
Her body fell on him, exactly as he wanted. And just how he'd planned it, the chair caved under their combined weight and force, and though he felt like his chest and back were on fire, he also felt an overwhelming joy at the sound of the breaking wood as they crashed on the floor.
The adrenaline kicked in, and he was able to roll on top of her, pieces of the chair still clinging to his tied hands, as he used his head once more, crashing it against her face before he stood in a blur.
His body was tingling with either pain or ecstasy as he stumbled towards the front door, relishing the feeling of freedom.
With his back to the door, his tied hands unlocked and opened the door, the cold rush of air nearly knocking him back.
But he stepped out, and he started running.
He saw the distorted maroon Range Rover parked outside as he ran down the frozen slope in front of the cabin, and thought he should have taken the keys. And a knife to cut his binds...
But it was too late. Too late to go back. Too late for "should have" and "could have". He just had to run now. Even if every step ached more that the last, and if he was shirtless in the middle of the forrest.
The dark, cold forrest.
He had to run.
And he did. Downhill, occasionally, holding himself against a tree trunk to catch his breath, or himself from falling down. But then he would hear her, not far behind her, and he would push himself away from the tree with his shoulder and he would start running again, the forrest a dark green and white blur on all sides.
Brienne wasn't far behind him, and his pain, the cold, and the muddy snow that stuck to his boots slowed his down.
His head throbbed, and the forrest grew darker, and colder, and the ground below grew rougher, and before he knew it, he crashed fowards, the snow and freezing rocks digging into his burned chest, brining tears from his eyes once again.
Then he passed out.
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Arya opened her eyes a fraction, her gaze falling on a paint stained cement floor.
She could smell stale humidity. It dried her throat and lungs with each labored breath she took.
Her shoulders and chest were sore, and her wrists felt raw where the rope tied them together was digging into the flesh.
Looking around the room she realized she was in an old, abandoned looking basement... and that she was dangling from the ceiling by her tied wrists.
There was a ringing in her ears and a dull throbbing in her head.
The last thing she remembered doing was pulling into a parking lot.
She had left Gendry and Sandor earlier that morning...
or had it been yesterday...
Her thoughts were fuzzy and she had no idea were she was, and she began to panic, fussing with the rope, but it only bit deeper into her skin.
"Oh, you're awake." a voice came from behind her, and she heard a metal chair screech its protest as someone slid it backwards on the floor, and stood. "He'll want to know." the voice said, before the man left the room from an unseen door behind her.
She whimpered with panic as she tugged at the rope, ignoring the pain. But she felt too weak and sore, and nothing gave.
Behind her, two sets of footsteps walked into the room, and she took a deep breath, preparing herself for whomever she was about to face.
But she still couldn't stifle the shocked gasp she let out as the pale, thin. bald man came around to stand before her dangling body.
"You!" she breathed out, feeling tears of genuine fear burn her eyes.
"Yes, him." said the younger man that had first spoken when she woke up as he took his place next to Ilyn Payne.
Arya kicking, and setting her weight on the rope, screaming with rage, but still, nothing.
"As fiery and wild as she described you." the young man said with a smile.
Ilyn Payne remained stone cold and unimpressed at his side though.
"Come near me, and I'll..."
"Save your threats, silly girl..." the man yelled, walking up to her, and catching her feet with his hand as she tried to kick him. He tugged down, making the rope slice into the flesh of her wrist, and bringing a cry from her.
"It's very simple Arya. You tell us what we need to know, and he won't be forced to use anything in that table over there. " he turned to a table on the far side of the basement, drawing her attention to it. It was full of torture tools.
She closed her eyes with a whimper.
This is it. It's my turn to die. To join mother, and father, and Jon.
"Look at me!" the yelled, grabbing her face roughly, and shaking it.
Not without a fight.
She kicked her legs hard, one foot connecting with the soft flesh of the man's stomach.
Not hard enough though, for he only let out a grunt before grabbing her shirt by the collar and ripping it open, exposing the sports bra she'd bought in Paris.
She moaned out in pain, the rope tugging at her wrist as the man finished ripping the shirt open.
"You shouldn't have done that." he said with a wipe of his sleeve on his forehead.
Arya's eyes were on Ilyn, who walked over to the table and picked up stun baton, bringing her chest to rise and fall rapidly as she began to hyperventilate.
Be strong, Arya. Don't let them see your fear.
Ilyn's colorless eyes met hers, and she saw nothing there. She began kicking the air again, ignoring the pain around her wrists as she put her entire weight on them.
"Come on!" she yelled, daring Ilyn. "Come one!" she growled, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Ilyn had to only give the younger man a look for him to cross over to her, and hold her legs still.
At that, Ilyn crossed to her, the baton expanding in his hand with an electrical crackle.
She tried to kick, her only defense, but the grip on her legs was like iron.
There was a wiring noise, and the white electricity came to life on the shaft.
Arya could see her chest heaving with terror as the baton came inches away from her.
"Alright Arya... it' simple... tell us where Gendry is, and you won't have to get hurt."
"Huh?" Arya breathed out as her heart skipped a beat.
"I... I don't know." she lied, hoping they'd credit her shaky voice to her fear. "We parted ways... I don't know where he is."
Suddenly her whole body cramped as the tip of the baton connected with her side.
Her back arched and froze in place as her neck and shoulders twisted. She could hear a piercing screech, in her ears, and after the wires she felt twisting inside of her released her, and she slowly began to loosen up, she realized the piercing screech had been her screams.
Each breath she took in felt like sandpaper, and she closed her eyes against the light.
"I'll ask you again... Where is Gendry?"
Arya managed to shake her hanging head, blinking twice to see the baton hiss to life once more.
"Go to hell." she huffed out.
"Wrong answer, sweet cheeks." The man said as the baton came in contact with her side once again, this time lasting longer.
Her body recoiled, and her head hammered before she limped lifelessly from the rope, her heart drumming in her eyes and teeth.
"Ilyn is not a patient man, girl..." came a distorted voice from behind her at first, then from infront of her.
This is how I'm going to die.
"Is keeping this boy safe really worth your life?"
She could feel herself just about ready to talk again, and she took in a shaky breath before speaking again.
"You're going to kill me, and you still won't know. . . because I don't know... and no amount of tasing will change that."
Ilyn clicked the baton off at that, pushing the wand back inside the handle as he walked to the table once more.
"That was the wrong answer too." the man next to her whispered as he released her legs.
She tried to kick him, failing, but he caught one of her legs in the air, and began unlacing the boot.
Her brows furrowed as she looked up, panicked, and saw Ilyn pick up what looked like a steel cigar cutter.
no no...
Began to kick again, trying to free her leg, using all the anger and desperation that welled up inside of her as fuel.
"No!" she yelled as the man slipped her boot off and the her sock, exposing her toes, which she quickly curled in as she clenched her teeth stubbornly.
It made the man laugh as he tried to pull the toes apart with one hand, while trying to hold her kicking leg with the other.
Ilyn was beside him by then, and he shoved the man aside roughly, taking Arya's barefoot in his cold, dry hands, leaving her other leg in the iron grip of the other man.
Ilyn's lifeless eyes looked up at her inquiringly as he pulled her large toe up and slipped it in the cigar cutter.
Arya let out a shuddery breath, as she gathered enough saliva inside her mouth to spit out at the man.
But then there came a clatter from the other room, and all three of them turned to the door.
"Help!" Arya called, but Ilyn quickly dropped the cutters and slapped the back of his hand across her face before swinging it back against the other side of her face, this time with his palm.
Her neck gave, and she let her throbbing face fall. She could taste blood.
Suddenly there was a shot, and the lights went out. The man released her leg, and she swung softly from side to side, the only thing holding her up was the rope now. She had no more strength left in her.
She heard a gun cock besides her, and a shot rang instantly after that. There was shuffled footsteps on the floor, before two more shots rang in the air, one right after the other. From two different guns.
She heard heavy footsteps approach her, and an arm wrap around her waist, holding her up briefly as a cold knife slipped between her wrist and sawed carefully at the rope, until she felt her sore arms fall free of the rope.
"Put your arms around my neck. Can you do that?" came a gentle, accented voice near her ear, and she nodded while a hand guided her hands behind a neck while the other slipped under her legs, cradling her against a muscled chest.
"You should have never run away from me, lovely girl." was the last thing she heard, before she let herself fall into the dark.
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AN
Sorry for the late update, and it's short too :(
I had to leave town on a family emergency, that's why it's so late... also, this was suppose to be a longer chapter, but when I came around to writing the second half of it, i was missing some bits i needed to look into... so i'll do my research tomorrow, and publish the second half as chapter 25
To all my readers and reviewers! ugh, i don't now how to tell you how much it means to me that you all read and take the time to review... youre all amazing!
kisses and hugs to you all!
So, Jaime is pretty wounded... (physically) and Gendry too (emotionally)
Arya, the little devil, ran away, and with good reason too, which I was suppose to write out in this chapter, but like I said, it'll be moved into chapter 25... only to fall into the hands of Ilyn Payne and she was tortured :(
but Jaqen is in the picture again, for those of you who didnt figure out it was him who came to her rescue... hopefully the "lovely girl" bit was enough to give that away.
Again, I apologize for any misspells, or if i wrote he instead of she, or any unclear bit... it's 3 am, and I should really stop writing this late so I get a chance to re read and clean up ( i have no beta)
Alas, I will re read tomorrow... Everything... and finally clean everything up...
Im in that kinda mood, and Ill take all of tomorrow afternoon to do that, cause I love you all and I want to give you a cleaned up version of this story.
I made a soundtrack for this story, so Ill have that link up in my profile... i even made this lemon colored poster as an "album cover"
Again, thanks to all of you, and special thanks to ChaChaFinesse who wrote me a lovely PM that just made my day...
Thank you darling!
Until tomorrow!