Private You Win Or You Die [18+]

[EpicVakarian]

"Come on, we need to get as far away as possible."
Arya nodded, and Derek and the Hound followed close behind. Isabel Stark fled the Twins, the ancient bridge castle that housed the Freys. The last remainders of her family had just been murdered, right in front of her. She and Snow, her direwolf, had barely made it out alive before Roose Bolton and Walder Frey betrayed them both. The moment the Lannister anthem had played out of the bards' cubbyhole, she had known to escape quickly. She tried to get Robb and Catelyn to do the same, but even her mother, with her extensive history with Walder Frey, insisted that such an act would never occur, especially among friends. On her way out, fleeing the Stark camps with her bodyguard, Derek, she had found the Hound, Sandor Clegane, leading a carriage through the camp with her sister Arya in the back. She had told them what happened, crying briefly with Arya, then fled east with the both of them.
She had no idea where to go. Winterfell was gone, the Wall wasn't really an option. To the North lay Lord Bolton's bastard son, Ramsay Snow, and his small army. To the west lay Lannisport and Casterly Rock; clearly not a good idea. To the south lay King's Landing, and to the east was the Vale, which was, no doubt, soon to be attacked by King Joffrey's armies. They had nowhere to go.
The group of four made camp in the most remote location they could find. The Hound sat alone, and Isabel, Arya and Derek sat together, talking.
"We were lucky, Derek. Incredibly lucky. And Arya, if we hadn't found you, you would have been dead too."
"I know, Bel. But, Robb, mother, Grey Wind. They're all gone. We could have helped."
"Arya, there was the whole Frey host, taking our army by surprise. What difference would four people make, even when those four are two Starks, the son of a Hale, and the Hound? Derek, tell her."

 

[Matt]

The sun came through the breezeway's arch with the wind, glinting off a gold-plated goblet that had been sitting neglected for far too long, by Tyrion Lannister's estimation. "Pod, if you please." Without a word, his young squire leaned over the seated dwarf's shoulder and poured a fresh cup of Dornish wine. Tyrion pointedly avoided noticing his reflection in the shiny goblet as he lifted it to drink.

The last thing I need is a reminder that my face was carved up like a roast while I have all of these other things to concern myself with. Oh great, here I am pondering the sight of it anyway. Well done, Imp, you've managed to outsmart yourself once again.

His eyes lifted up from the financial records he'd been pouring himself over to find Varys, better known to some as the Spider and still others as The Eunuch, standing before his desk with a remarkably perplexing look of worry on his round features. Tyrion even noticed the sweat beading on the Spider's bald head before he brought up a soft meaty hand to wipe it away. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Varys? Have you come with news from my dear, loving sister or perhaps my generous father? Oh, no wait, is it a sordid detail concerning events far and abroad that one of your birds you are always singing about mentioned to you?"

To his credit, Tyrion noticed that Varys simply shrugged off the extra commentary and went straight to business; if that was the proper word to use when describing what it was the bald eunuch dallied in. "I'm afraid noting so fanciful as all that, my dear friend." For a moment as Varys paused for dramatic effect, Tyrion fancied he could actually see a forked serpent's tongue slithering in behind the silky words of this particular small council member. Rumination ended as Varys' look shifted to one of pity instead of worry. "But I figured I would give you fair warning. Your nephew - of sorts, of course - is being poisoned as we speak."

Tyrion stood up out of his chair and moved around to the side of the desk, even surprising himself with the speed of his movement. Suddenly, all of the fancy hardwood furniture, the beautiful view of Blackwater Bay, the pleasant breeze coming in off it, the delicious wine, and the comfortable chair meant absolutely nothing. Absentmindedly, he ran short, stubby fingers through the blond curls on his head as his eyes widened before his mouth finally found words, "You know about it and yet you do nothing?"

"There is nothing that can be done, my lord Tyrion, except to warn you."

Tyrion immediately despised the knowing look Varys was giving him and cocked a half-smile in response. "Alright, Spider, what is it you are not telling me?"

Varys turned his back, his robes fluttering silently around him before he pressed his hands together and began to slowly stroll from the room, "It is you they will blame for it, my lord." For a half second stopped as the eunuch turned a cheek and added, "Oh and, Lord Tyrion, where is Shea, I wonder? Would be terrible if your Father learned who she actually was..."

Blast that Spider! Useful, but useless at the same time.

Tyrion paced twice around his room before the words sunk in. Joffrey was being poisoned at that very moment,, which gave him little time to act. Knowing his family, he easily deduced that Cersei was likely the one responsible. That woman had always valued control; something she had none of where her son was concerned.

A lot like Father in that regard. She can control a Kingdom with no problems, but family is something else entirely.

The little comment the Spider had made about Shea was sitting even less comfortably in his stomach. Suddenly, fear spurned the half-man to action and he snatched a dagger off of the dark wood desk in his office and went for the door. "Bronn!" He called out, but the sell sword was nowhere in sight.

That is quite odd. You'd think a man I pay an egregious sum to protect me would be here to protect me.

He saw the silhouette of someone else standing in an adjacent doorway and called out, "You there, are you any good with that sword about your waist or do you wear it for show? Never mind, just come with me, and I'll pay you for your troubles." He spun around and walked away, raising a finger in to the air as he added wistfully, "I'm sure you will have an opportunity to prove your usefulness soon enough."

 

[Seanu Reaves]

The silhouette moved from the doorway into the light. Olive skin covered in light chain and leather armor pieces. His hair was a close shave and his face bore a scar down his cheek. He didn't speak, no he simply nodded and fell into place behind the dward. He smiled but even though it revealed healthy teeth, it was cold. He was a Dornish man, that much was obvious though something in his features seemed to suggest a mixed breeding. He was a decent hight, but of slender constitution. The kind of man who would have made a better infantry man charging his foe on foot, than a heavily clad knight bearing down with horse and lance.

The closer you look the more strange things about this man you would notice. His sword hung on his right hip, yet his bracer of light steel was still on his right. He had an earring similar to those across the ocean and yet he seemed to have Westrosi poise. He wasn't the cleanest yet he walked like he was a prince. A very strange mercenary indeed. He would definately be someone you would describe as a sinister looking character for sure. Looking more like a pirate than any self respecting soldier. Even the colors he wore where nuetral, undyed jerkin and shirt betraying no alliegence. Needless to say, Bren Entreri thought for that was his name. The dwarf picked well.

 

[Matt]

Footsteps on the solid stone floor informed Tyrion that Mr. Shadow - as he was already calling him in his mind - was following him around the corner into the open corridor leading deeper into the palace. Not far inside were the quarters of the Hand of the King; a place where Tyrion could not be certain he would be safe.

How much does my Father know? Is he behind it? And why did Varys even mention Shae? This is most likely a trap, or worse. Good thing I've got this fellow tagging along, but still, where in the seven hells is Bronn?

Another corner approached and immediately past it was a small alcove cut into the sandstone wall. A small table with several artifacts relating to the Seven was the only thing of interest there, aside from the fact that it was empty and could not be seen into from anywhere in the vicinity. Tyrion ducked in - his head barely taller than the table - and called after the man who was following him, "You there, spare a moment for the Master of Coin? Apologies, but we must make this brief. Do you know who I am?"

 

[Daryl Dixon]

The group of four made camp in the most remote location they could find. The Hound sat alone, and Isabel, Arya and Derek sat together, talking."We were lucky, Derek. Incredibly lucky. And Arya, if we hadn't found you, you would have been dead too."Isabel said. Derek thought "Your family was just killed, you are far from lucky." But due to respect avoided saying this. "I know, Bel. But, Robb, mother, Grey Wind. They're all gone. We could have helped." Arya said, visibly upset. "Arya, there was the whole Frey host, taking our army by surprise. What difference would four people make, even when those four are two Starks, the son of a Hale, and the Hound? Derek, tell her." Isabel and Arya looked to Derek, he took a deep breath. "Arya, I wish we could have helped. If it weren't for you two I would have ran in and got myself killed trying to avenge him. But Robb gave me the responsibility of looking after his sister, and that's what I'm going to do."Derek glanced around for a second, The Hound was sitting alone. "Arya, don't think they are getting away with this. Just because you can't avenge your family now doesn't mean you never will, the Lannisters will pay for this. So will Walder Frey." Derek wasn't entirely sure it was the Lannisters, but due to them being at war with Robb it made sense. He wasn't sure what he could say to lighten the blow of their mother, brother and good friends deaths. He clenched his fists, he paced a little. He then punched a tree with his right fist, it hurt but he didn't care. "Dammit!" Derek yelled, "The hell is their problem?" The hound looked over to him, Derek ignored it. "I'm sorry I-" he started, "We should get moving. I don't know where we should go, but we should go."

 

[Seanu Reaves]

"Yeah. You are my newest employer." It was a suprisingly sing song voice. It also held refined edge, though there was still a natural menance. He looked around as he walked through the halls, following the dwarf. His eyes were stern and wary about the castle. He knew why he was sent here in the first place, but it didn't make him any more comfortable. As he moved he felt his hidden dagger brush against his arm, that did little to settle his uneasy stomach. He laughed a silent chuckle to himself before speaking again. "Of course, A man like me doesn't go far without hearing about nobles and their afairs."

 

[Freyja]

A snake slithered around on the hot sand, blending in perfectly with its environment. Its scales glimmered beautifully, yet that creature knew that it was evil, and it would destroy everything in good time. And that is why it must be destroyed. Snakes were no good, especially since Sif had to worry about her horse, Avenger, who could easily trod on one and get a poisonous bite to the ankle. Sif took out two knives, and quickly decapitated the brown scaled snake. Her daughter, Saima, looked on in interest, with Seeker on her shoulder. Sif was so happy that Seeker cared so much for both her and Saima-she could trust him to protect the child.


A figure came down the road, and Sif had to squint to see who it was. It was followed by about twenty huge men who carried greatswords and bows. When the figure came closer, Sif smiled. Daeneyrs had come. The rightful queen.

"And how may I assist you, m'lady?" Sif smiled at the white queen whose three Dragons flew about. Daeneyrs smiled, then grasped Sif's hand.

"I call upon your help...please." Sif nodded in approval-the dragon queen would always have Sif's help in freeing those who were abused and suffering like she had been.

"Where do we start?"

 

[Matt]

Tyrion glanced down both directions of the open corridor before turning both of his eyes on the stern face of his most recently acquired sell sword. "Good, then you know a Lannister always pays his debts." He reached inside the soft decorative tunic he was wearing and removed a small pouch that jangled as he tossed it at the man. "This is all I have on me right now, but I am afraid I haven't the time to procure more. I am in the need of your services immediately."

They continued through a sandstone breezeway and around another corner - this one lined with several floral arrangements in terracotta pots - and Tyrion slowed as they approached a thick wooden door on heavy iron hinges guarded by four soldiers wearing the armor of a Lannister soldier. Tyrion spoke quietly so only his newest employee could hear, "Behind that door is the Hand of the King, otherwise known as my gracious and loving father, Tywin Lannister. Don't come in with me, as I've yet to determine what role he plays in recent events and how it effects me. Remain by the door and if you hear sounds of trouble - and lets be honest, I'm not the bravest man in the Seven Kingdoms, so you'll know - deal with these four, and then come to my rescue. If I do call for your help, I want you to slay anyone in that room who isn't me, and no, don't say anything. There will be plenty of time for us to talk later if you are as good with that hidden dagger as I am guessing."

Tyrion stopped just short of the door and signaled for his new 'friend' to wait. After nodding to the guards, he stormed into the room and quickly closed the door. "Father, I have urgent business with-"

The half-man stopped speaking and fell to his knees, tears welling up in his large, round eyes. Hanging from a high sconce on wall was the bloodied corpse of Shae, the one woman Tyrion had thought he could start a life with ever since his first fate filled encounter with the viciousness of love. He cupped his face in his hands and looked away, unable to bear the site of her open throat any longer.

"So you see, my son, I do not offer threats idly. Now, out of my sight, before I slaughter a few more of this city's whores just because seeing your wretched face tries my patience."

Tyrion stood up slowly, his small body quivering with fear and rage. He wiped at his eyes and clenched his jaw before saying, "You don't know, do you? This, generous father, is a moment I will both lament and treasure for the rest of my days." He took a step toward his father who was seated the head of a long table, and said loudly, "Now is the time, my friend! Help!"

Tywin shot up from his chair and pulled a short sword form a decorative scabbard that had been placed on the table, "What is the meaning of this? Who is this friend of yours?"

"You see, father, there are two reasons I will enjoy certain memories of this day. The first, is that I know my gentle Nephew, King Joffrey, is being poisoned while he eats his luncheon." An odd smile cocked his lips to the side even as his gaze became scornful, "The second is that you will die, right here in the chambers of the Hand of the King, and I will tower over you for a change, loving father."

That is, unless my new employee proves to be underwhelming.

 

[Seanu Reaves]

"And here I thought this would be a boring job," Came that disembodied voice, and Lord Tywin wasn't scared as the sellsword entered the room. Bren Entreri entered the room with almost utterly silent steps, his sword drawn. It was a generic bastard sword, unadorned and utterly practical. It's blade was wavy down by the hilt was the only stand out trait. He smiled as he held it in his left hand. He had a buckler on his waist that clanged happily as if it was enjoying the idea of killing such a powerful man. Bren himself was also quite excited a wide smile on his face that did in fact reach his eyes. He rested the four and a half food blade on his shoulder as he walked up next to the dwarf. Tywin stood and growled towards his son and his new mercenary, and Bren spoke again. "So M'lord... How would you like for this to end?"

 

[Matt]

Tyrion smiled at his father, then looked at the sell sword and shrugged before looking back at his father again who was pointing the sword directly at the mercenary and was coming around the long table, "I want him killed, of course! Didn't I make that clear before I came in here?"

He felt a bit flatfooted, as he had expected this man to come charging in, sword flashing in the sunlight as he disemboweled his father or some such thing.

Though, I suppose a subtler man has more uses. I do hope he has handled the guards at the door at least. Can't imagine them letting him in if he hadn't. He did that rather quickly and quietly, if so. Simply remarkable.

Musing over the strange mercenary gave way when Tywin inched ever closer. In the moment that followed, Tyrion lost a sense of anything but rage as he waited for his mercenary to engage the richest man in the Seven Kingdoms. He clutched the small steel dagger in his sweaty palm as he awaited the bout, fully expecting his father to best this man but hoping that he would prove to be enough of a distraction for Tyrion to slip in and drive the dagger home into the heart of the man who had killed his Shae.

"Tyrion, end this madness or you will hang beside your whore from the battlements!" The half-man ignored the rest of the insults and threats that followed. The time for words was long past.

Bronn turned out to be more than he seemed, maybe this man will do so as well.

 

[Freyja]

Sif took the shackles off of the burnt hands of a scrawny and sad woman. She whispered words of comfort to her, then provided her with a knapsack of food, water, and a small amount of coins. The woman hugged her, and Sif smiled. She enjoyed helping Daenerys and her army. She already had the support of the Unsullied, the Second Suns, Mormont and Selmy, and of course, the Dothraki. Some of the slaves that were freed were able bodied men and women who vowed themselves to Daenerys as Sif had done. It didn't take too long for the ex-slaves to regain their body weight and tone up. Daenerys had built an army of people who were extremely devoted to her, which made Sif smile. The queen really knew how to get people on her side. Sif mounted the back of her horse, Avenger, calling to Saima, who rode over on a chestnut mare that had been provided for her. Seeker circled around the two ladies protectively.

 

[EpicVakarian]

"We can't go north. Whoever has Winterfell now, it certainly won't be anyone good. We can't go west; that's back to the Twins. We can't go east, or we'd be swimming to Pentos. We can only go south. Try and get past King's Landing, maybe catch a boat somewhere."
Everyone seemed to agree, so they headed south. Isabel and Arya watched the Twins fade behind them mournfully, thinking of Robb, thinking of their mother. Edmure was a captive of the Freys. The Blackfish was gone somewhere, perhaps they could find him. But the chances were very low. They just kept walking south, until midnight struck.
"We should sleep," the Hound said gently. They all agreed, so they lay down our heads, Isabel and Arya laying together, huddling and closing their eyes, waiting for the nightmares to come.

 

[Seanu Reaves]

Bren looked at the ruined corpse of Tywin Lannister, for an old man he put up quite the fight. Not that it helped against the Sellsword. Who sat on the once powerful man's desk feet propped up on Tywin's fine chair. He was watching Tyrion like a hungry wolf that chilling smile upon his face, hand methodically using what was left of Tywin's shirt to clean the blood off. I wonder what he thinks of how I fight, Bren thought his gaze unwavering from the Dwarf. He adverted his gaze for a second to look at the butchered corpse of Tywin Lannister, he did good work seeing how if anyone found the body they would be hard pressed to recognize who it belongs to. He was idly scrubbing his blade, every now and again scratching a little bit of dried blood. Soon he had it cleaned to his liking and sheathed the blade on his right hip again. The sellsword gave out a menacing chuckle as he hoped off the desk and walked over to the Dwarf. "Well then M'Lord did I pass your little test?"

 

[Matt]

The fight had been a tense moment for the half-man, albeit briefly. It had been apparent from the beginning that Tywin was overmatched. The senior Lannister was well known as quite capable with a blade, but certainly not a champion. "My father," Tyrion began as he stood over his father's bleeding corpse, "Tywin Lannister; The richest man in the world...Still, as they always said, a Lannister always pays his debts. You took a life, and your own was taken in recompense. How ironic, father, that your death would come at the hand of someone paid with your money."

He turned from the body and found the gaze of his new sellsword who had finished cleaning the blood and other bits from his blade, "Pass it? My good man you've just slain Tywin Lannister in the chambers of the Hand of the King! I will see to it that you never want for anything again." Without peering behind the table at where Shae hung from the sconce - there simply wasn't time for mourning - Tyrion gave another order to his most recent employee, "There is a good sum of gold and other valuables in this room, swordsman. Take it all for yourself," he paused for effect and squinted his eyes as he made these orders clear, "and make whatever arrangements you need to. We are leaving the city right now. I only have to gather a few things and then I will meet you at the city gates." He turned from him, then suddenly spun back around, "And, tell me your name, or whatever else you wish me to call you."

 

[Daryl Dixon]

Derek sat up reasonably close to the two Stark girls, if anything happened he'd be able to defend them at a moments notice. He was far enough to give them a bit of privacy though, not wanting to intrude in their time of mourning. Derek was glad they had the hound on their side, he had been protecting Arya for who knows how long now and it would sure make keeping the two Stark girls alive easier. Derek slowly drifted off to sleep, waking up a few times before morning. He woke up before anybody else did, and managed to get a small yet warm fire going. Eventually the hound woke up, and Derek and the hound spoke a bit before the other two awoke. They sat by the fire, and shared their histories. When Isabel woke up, Derek greeted her. "You okay?" He asked, knowing she likely wasn't.

 

[EpicVakarian]

Isabel woke up early that morning. Derek and Clegane were already up and talking. Isabel's hair was ruffled, her eyes were coated with sleep, and she was still in the 'sleep' state of mind, so it took a while for her to respond.
"Hey, Derek. ...Yeah... I'm fine." Derek clearly knew that this was a lie, but knew not to pursue it further. Arya was still asleep, so Isabel tried to be as quiet as possible. She walked over and sat by the fire, close to Derek. "How long have you both been awake?"

 

[Seanu Reaves]

"Entreri, I think that will suffice." The sellsword hoped off the desk and began to look around for anything that he could carry easily and sell off. With nibble fingers the mercenary began to go through every nook and cranny. He grabbed coins and jewelry, obvious treasures, and some that were not so obvious. He grabbed a few scrolls and books, and turned to see the dwarf leave. He smiled to himself, as he looked at the corpse he made. It was beautiful in it's own way, he thought. A certain natural beauty an artist can only hope to mimic but never create. The sellsword soon had all he wanted and left the room. Eager to use his free time before he had to meet up with Tyrion again.

 

[Matt]

"Entreri," Tyrion echoed, "Interesting name. One day I should ask you how you came by it."

He left the room as fast as his small legs could carry him and did his best to keep his thoughts from dwelling on those who were dead. Shae would be missed but at least his father was no longer a threat. It was the living Lannisters that worried him as he passed through one decorative portcullis after another en route to his destination. Cersei was likely the one responsible for poisoning her son but it could have been anyone who was close to the King; young Joffrey was a monster and everyone knew it. In either case, it would be Tyrion who would hold the title Kingslayer, despite having no prior knowledge of this plot to assassinate his nephew.

I make a perfect little scapegoat, don't I? Doesn't matter, I'm guilty of conspiring to murder the Hand of the King. I've only got one head for them to take, so another charge of murder makes little difference. I should choose my battles, and thanks to Varys, I have time to choose a battle that is not in King's Landing.

He finally arrived at his chambers and began stowing bags of coin, a wine flask, and some clothes in a travel bag. His active mind worked carefully to consider his options and it must have been apparent on his features as a voice mild concern found his ears, "You look awful worried, Tyrion. What have I missed and where are we going?"

Tyrion turned his head to look over his shoulder at Bron, his champion sell-sword, but continued packing as he said quietly, "Where were you this morning?"

"If you have to ask that, then you don't know me at all."

Tyrion moved from the desk to the bed and plopped the bag on top, "Well, while you were out getting your tool polished I hired another mercenary not unlike yourself to slay the Hand of the King."

Bron shrugged, "Then I didn't miss anything important enough to pass up a good wom-"

"-and someone is poisoning the King as we speak." Tyrion's words interrupted him and left Bron silent. for a moment.

Finally, as Tyrion cinched his bag closed, Bron stepped beside his friend - if they could be termed as such - and picked up the belongings of his Lord. "There's not much left for me here,then is there? I'll make sure ya get to the gate safe, My Lord, but there our business will be concluded."

Tyrion looked a bit startled and played with a ring on his finger nervously, "What will you do, Bron?"

"You've forgotten, the Hand of the King named me Lord of the Blackwater," a smile spread across Bron's unshaven face, "I've a name to make for myself, Lord Tyrion. Just like you have one to run from."

The two men looked at each for a moment, smiled, and then left the room. Tyrion removed a travel cloak from a hook on the wall as he closed the door. They both had said what needed to be said and traveled in silence to the city's gates. Once they arrived, Bron simply nodded slightly at his former Lord, and walked toward the stables inside the courtyard. Tyrion knew of a smaller, less traveled stable just outside the city. That is where he would go once he had gathered his new bodyguard.

 

[Daryl Dixon]

"Hey, Derek. ...Yeah... I'm fine." Isabel said, quietly. She sat by the fire with them, close to Derek. "How long have you both been awake?" She asked. "I woke up about two hours ago, Sandor woke up about half an hour ago." Derek said, checking Isabel over. He knew he should probably try be there for her emotionally, but he never was one for comfort. Although she was a formidable warrior, the Starks now had a lot of enemies, he would need to protect her. "If you ever want to talk..." He said slowly, trying to keep himself from sounding awkward, "I'm here."

 

[EpicVakarian]

Isabel pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and hugging herself.
"If you ever want to talk... I'm here."
She looked up at Derek. He reminded her of her brother Jon. Half-brother, Sansa had called it, but brother all the same. She smiled at Derek sadly.
"Thanks." She could see in his eyes; he knew she wouldn't come to him. She would go to Arya, her sister. But it was good of him to offer, all the same. She suddenly heard a small yawn behind her, and saw that Arya had gotten up. She had to hand it to her; she had taken on every word of advice this Syrio Forel had given her. "Morning, Arya."
"Morning. We setting off soon?"
"Yeah, probably. We'll have to go south. I don't like it, but we have no choice. The Ironborn still have Winterfell, as far as I know. Not even Jon could convince the Nights Watch to take us in. East is the Narrow Sea, and west is back to the Twins, and past that, Lannisport and Casterly Rock. Three places we definitely don't want to be. I was thinking we could stow away on a ship somewhere to Braavos, or Lys, somewhere east. We'd have to go to King's Landing for that, and the Blackwater. Stannis' ships still rot at the bottom of that bay, but we need it."
Arya obviously didn't like it either, but she nodded. They broke their fasts and set off, still in the back of the carriage the Hound had taken.

"If you're going across the Sea, I won't join you. I'd prefer to stay in the Seven Kingdoms, even in as many pieces as they're in right now." The Hound spoke suddenly, after about an hour of silence. Isabel and Arya said nothing.