Chapter Text
"Food's running low. Maybe 2 days' worth if we stretch it." Mellina went over their supplies for a second and then a third time. "We'll either have to stop to hunt or find some other way to find more food after that."
"These lands aren't exactly overflowing with game," Sandor grunted.
The last week had taken a truly dangerous turn. With the Starks gone, Lannister men flooded in like a tempest, filling every tavern and inn for miles.
They burned crops and slaughtered women and children like they slaughtered livestock, and it seemed that every time they attempted to follow a marked road, red leather armor was there to meet them.
They'd gotten lucky so far, in that they hadn't been recognized and they weren't interesting enough to draw attention.
At least, not as interesting as looting and burning villages.
They came upon one village that was just recovering from an attack and had begun to collect their dead from the streets.
Mellina's grip on Arya tightened as they passed a mother weeping over the bodies of her young sons, neither of them could have been over the age of 10.
"Why are they attacking the small folk? They already won." Arya hissed under her breath and Mellina shook her head disapprovingly.
"They call it keeping the King's peace, but in truth they're vultures. They're flocking to pick over the lands that no longer have the protection of their noble families. Most of them have sent their knights off to war for one king or another, and those who sided with the Lannisters certainly aren't going to stop them."
Her voice was laced with venom and her eyes were full of suspicion as she urged the horse forward faster.
Mellina had taken to insisting that Arya is within arm's reach of either Sandor or herself at all times.
Not because she didn't trust Arya to stay with them, but because she could feel the eyes of men landing and leering on them both. Arya wanted desperately to ride on her own as she had on the way to The Twins, but Mellina could not help but imagine every scenario in which the poor girl was spirited away by some horrible man with the worst intentions.
Ayra was just a child, and Mellina doubted her life in The North had granted her the knowledge of evil men that growing up in the slums of Kings Landing had given Mellina.
She didn't want to explain it to her, but she knew that eventually Arya would ask. One day she simply had no choice but to take Arya out of earshot of Sandor and explain.
"I know you think it's because I don't trust you but that's not it." she insisted. "It's because I can't trust any man that passed us on the road, and neither can you. I know growing up you were kept protected in Winterfell, but out here it is different. That is why I keep close to Sandor, and you keep close to either him or me. There is safety in numbers, do you understand?"
Arya nodded seriously and no longer asked to ride on her own.
After a few days, they ran out of food. They had stretched it as far as they could, Mellina even going days without more than a bite to keep her going so that Arya and Sandor had enough to remain alert.
Eventually, they found an inn that wasn't burnt to the ground, but in front of that inn sat 5 horses.
"We shouldn't risk it." Mellina shook her head, "Not with the bounty on your head being raised. Men would be willing to get themselves killed for a shot at that much money."
"Why do you have a bounty on your head?" Arya looked at him in confusion and Sandor sputtered.
"That is a very long story."
"If we don't stop, we'll risk starving between here and whatever is left standing next." Arya insisted before glancing at Mellina "And you haven't eaten in 4 days."
"5 horses mean at least 5 men." Sandor shook his head, "If things go sour, on a good day I could take them. But 2 days without food, 5 men is more than I feel like killing on an empty stomach."
Before long, several of the men emerged from the tavern and Mellina's eyes widened.
She knew that man, the short bald one. He was one of Gregor's men at Harrenhal.
And he knew her, and he knew that she was supposed to be in King's Landing.
And in all likelihood, he knew what she'd done to survive that wretched place.
"I can't go in there." she shook her head. "That man, he knows men. He knows who I am."
"That's Polivar." Arya nodded, "he was there when I was trapped in Harrenhal. He killed Lommy."
"What the fuck's a Lommy?"
"He was my friend." Arya peered further into the brush and frowned. "he's still got my sword! He's got Needle!"
"Oh of course you named your sword."
"Oh, of course, you named your sword." Sandor scoffed and Arya growled defensively.
"Lots of people name their swords."
"Lots of cunts."
Head stuck in a fog; Mellina felt movement by her but didn't register it was Arya before Sandor rushed after her. She followed him on instinct more than anything.
"Get the fuck back here!"
"He killed my friend!"
"I don't care if he ATE your friend, we are not-"
Before he could finish, the door of the inn opened once more, and a Lannister soldier laid eyes on all three of them.
Well, there goes any hope of fleeing.
Mellina resolved that in this instance it was best for her to speak as little as possible and keep her focus on protecting Arya.
Sandor had to duck to enter and was tailed closely by his wife and hostage, both of whom scanned the inn and found it less than safe.
5 Lannister men, plus the barkeep and his poor daughter who had been unlucky enough to catch the attentions of the reeving soldiers.
"Stay close and keep your mouth shut," Mellina muttered to Arya, "Remember, you are our daughter and you're ten."
"Why ten?"
"Thirteen is nearly a woman, ten is still a child. To some men, it doesn't make a difference but to some it does and it's best to be on the safe side."
They mae their way to the furthest table from the soldiers, but all the same, they drew attention. Once they were sat, most of the men turned their attention back to the poor girl they'd cornered, but one, that horrible on that knew her face, he did not look away from that.
"I know you." He said suddenly, drawing the attention of his men.
Mellina tensed and felt Arya move for Sandor's sword as she herself made for the knife in her waistband.
"You're The Hound!"
Oh, thank the Gods.
"Pour our new friend some ale." Pollivar insisted, making his way over to them in a friendly manner.
Mellina relaxed slightly, but still kept her arm across Arya's stomach under the table as if that could block her from attack.
"What brings you so far North?"
Sandor swallowed but kept a straight face. "I could ask the same of you. What are you lot doing up here?"
"Just keeping the King's Peace." Polliver nodded.
"No need, the war is over," Sandor grunted, his hand sinking below the table and across Mellina's stomach protectively.
"So I've heard, Stannis defeated at the Blackwater, Rod Stark dead at The Twins, and where am I for all of it? Stuck with your brother." Polliver realized his fumble quickly and attempted to recover. "No offense, of course."
"None taken."
"He's good, The Mountain is. The best at what he does, but torture, torture, torture. You take the hammer to so many men, you start to feel like a carpenter. Drain's the fun right out of it, really. And what's life without a little fun."
Polliver's eyes flickered to Mellina and Arya and smiled a little, "Not that I need to tell you that."
"Mind yourself," Sandor said testily, "That's my wife and child you're looking at, not some common whore and her runt."
"Of course, once again no offence intended." Pollivar backtracked quicker than a mule on a cliff. "You know what? You should ride with us!"
The bald man looked over his shoulder at the inn keep with a grin. "His kind, they're always hiding something somewhere. Gold, Silver, more daughters. Always something if you know how to make them talk. And there's plenty of him between here and Kings Landing, you could do well for you and yours."
Sandor looked at Mellina for a moment before sighing. "We're not going to King's Landing."
"Think about it!" Pollivar insisted, "We can do whatever we like, wherever we go! We were the King's colors, no one stands in his way now."
Please don't say it. Mellina closed her eyes and prayed. Oh Gods, please don't let him say it.
"Fuck the King."
Son of a Bitch.
Mellina gripped Arya's tunic and braced her feet.
"I heard Joffrey's dog had tucked tail and ran, but I didn't want to believe it," Pollivar said grimly. "But here you are."
"Here I am," Sandor confirmed. "Now bring me one of those chickens."
Mother's Mercy, we are going to die. Mellina thought, sending up a quick prayer to whoever might be listening.
"You got money to pay for it?"
"Did you play for it?"
Polliver chuckled darkly, "No, but we're King's men. So, have you got any money?"
"Not a penny. I'll still take that chicken."
Please Sandor just shut the fuck up, you were doing so well. Mellina's palms went clammy as she gripped the hilt of her dagger tightly.
"Tell you what," Pollivar said diplomatically. "We'll trade you, one of our little chickens for one of yours."
Mellina stiffened and moved to physically put herself between Pollivar and Arya, eyes flashing with warning, "Don't you dare."
"I see your wife's volunteered. She's a looker too, Lowell back there likes them a bit broken in, so that won't be a problem."
Sandor stared at Pollivar with an unreadable expression, as one might stare at a mouse or a roach.
"You're a talker," He said finally, "Listening to talkers, makes me thirsty, and hungry. I think we'll take two chickens."
Pollivar looked back at his men who had been following the exchange with interest. Each sensed the tension building and had their hands on their weapons.
"You don't seem to understand the situation."
Sandor contained a scoff, "I understand that if any more words come pouring out of your cunt mouth, I am going to have to eat every fucking chicken in this room."
Mellina had accepted this is where they would die at this point and prayed that the Mother shows her and Arya mercy.
The soldier could throw Sandor in the pit for all she cared at this point, since he decided he couldn't keep his big mouth shut for the first time in his life.
"You lived your life for the King and you're going to die for some chickens?"
"Someone is."
There was a beat of silence before fighting broke loose.
Arya was quick to find herself a corner to shelter in, while Sandor took point.
Mellina set herself to defense, dagger drawn and ready to parry off whatever blows she could.
However, most of the attention was focused on Sandor, who batted off the attackers as well as he could before the two of them decided there was strength in numbers and went for him together.
"Fuck" Mellina swallowed as Sandor's head hit the ground. She turned to Arya and nodded, "You stay right there!"
Focusing their attentions on Sandor meant both of their backs were wide open for attack a fact that Mellina took advantage of by driving her blade into the larger one's back.
He screamed and whipped around on her only to catch a swing to his chest.
He flailed in surprise and lunged at her. Mellina tried to dodge him, but his fist found her hair and dragged her to the ground.
"Stupid bitch!" he swore, trying to get at her throat with his sword thrown to the side. Mellina used his stupidity in disarming himself against him and ran her knife through his stomach over and over again until he was limp on top of her and she felt her stomach soaked with his blood.
With one down, Sandor was able to take down the other quickly.
This just left Pollivar, a wounded man, and a larger bald man with a bushlike beard.
The wounded man made for Mellina and took her by surprise. His weight collided with hers, knocking her to the ground and her dagger out of her hand. His fingers found her eyes and he attempted to gouge them with his thumbs until she was screaming and half-blind with pain.
Before she could feel the popping of her eyeballs in her skull, something very suddenly stuck the man and send him tumbling off of her. She heard him scream and heard the wet sound of flesh being punctured as she clutched at her eyes. She could see nothing but light and spots dancing in her vision. The pain was awful, but not enough to freeze her, as she reached out until she felt the handle of her dagger and gripped it.
After a few minutes, the sounds of fighting died and her vision began to slowly return, though still blurry around the edges and painful.
"Fuck." She grunted, "Are they dead?"
"Yes, they're dead." she could hear Sandor next to her, but his leg was more of a grey mass than a limb. His hand brushed her head and she reached for it.
"My eyes, that son of a bitch." she struggled to her feet.
"Can you see?"
"Barely," she confessed, "But I'm sure it'll fix itself, the eyes' still there, right?"
"Let me see."
Mellina struggled to peel her eyes open and when she did, she could only see the shadow in the shape of her husband.
"They're still there, but there's some bleeding. You'll be fine." He nodded, turning to Arya, "Good news for you, girl. You're riding on your own again. Try not to seem too cheerful about it."
Arya pressed some chicken and a roll of hard bread into Mellina's hand to eat before they moved out.
Unable to literally see the forest through the trees, Mellina was regulated to behind Sandor, while Arya got to enjoy a small taste of freedom.
Though barely able to see him, Mellina could feel the familiar curves of Sandor's body and despite the circumstances, it gave her a great deal of comfort.