Evermore // Bran Stark

54. Honor

Labyrinth // Rhaenyra Targaryen out now!

'joffery, cersei, walder frey, meryn trant, tywin Lannister, the red woman, beric Dondarrion, thoros of myr, llyn payne, the mountain-'

'would you shut up?" sandor questioned.

"You are just going to piss her off more." Aemlia grumbled leaning into Sandor.

'I have to say their names.' Arya told them.

'the names of every fucking person in westeros?'

'only the names of the ones I'm going to kill' arya corrected.

'Am I on your list?" Amelia questioned and Arya nodded. "Good to know little shit." Amelia sighed but Sandor kept an arm tighter around her.

'hates a good a thing as any to keep a person going. Better than most.' Sandor told her. 'we come across my brother maybe we can both cross a name off our list.' Sandor looked down to Amelia. "But you anit hurting my Amelia."

'if he were here right now what would you do?' arya questioned.

'I would tell him to shut the fuck up so could get some sleep... go on get it over with. Your list of doomed men' Sandor spat and Amelia chuckled.

'I'm almost done. Only two names left.'

'go on.' Sandor grumbled.

"Amelia Lannister."

"Fuck you too sunshine." Amelia hissed.

The last name arya spoke each night was the first name she had put on her list actually. The first name of the first man she ever wanted dead. Arya got comfortable, laying down her back to them.

'the hound.' She spoke her words crisp and clear.

Sandor wasn't tired anymore, he lay staring at the sky. This little cunt. After everything he was trying to do for her... he was on her fucking list. Amelia was her list. Amelia hadn't done anything besides being born to a bunch of cunts.

"Get some sleep Gorgeous." Sandor instructed. "I got you."

+

Joffreys wedding was large and obnoxious and hot. So hot. Sansa sat next to Tyrion, miserably. Tyrion drinking his way through this god forsaken wedding. He downed his next goblet as a group of dwarves came out in costume. He didn't have a clue what joffrey had planned. Even Margaery, Joffrey's new queen didn't look to pleased. Joffrey was laughing and clapping. The half mens came out preforming the death of Robb stark, a play of Robbs downfall at the wedding. Tyrion's face was pinched watching the men get laughed at by everyone, the king the loudest.

'well fought, well fought.' Joffrey said as every took a bow. 'a champion purse.' He held out a pouch of gold for them. 'although you are not the champions yet are you?' he slapped the pouch in his hands. 'a true champion defeats all the challengers. Surely there are others out there who dare to challenge by reign... uncle. How about you? I'm sure they have a spare costume...'

'one taste of combat was enough for my your grace.' Tyrion said ever so kindly. 'I would like to keep what remains of my face. I think you should fight him. This was but a poor imitation of your own bravery in the field of battle. I speak as a firsthand witness. Climb down from the high table with your new valerian sword and show everyone who a true king wins his throne... be careful though, this one is clearly mad with lust.' He pointed at one of the actors for joffreys little skit. 'it would be a tragedy for the king to lose his virtue hours before his wedding night'. Tyrion sat back down and sipped on his drink, Joffrey however was not pleased he sauntered over to Tyrion and poured his drink on tyrions head.