A/N: I'm soooooooooo sorry for the wait :(. I've had a hard time thinking about how to continue, but I'm back now that I've had some downtime from the story and college. I now know how I'm gonna go with this story and I hope to update more often (I'm thinking about it every weekend). I'm incredibly grateful for your patience, you all help me in keeping this story going!
The calling of her name made her eyes fly open, sounds of struggle followed. Liya quickly looked around her and saw Ser Jaime being released and hoisted up by the Bolton men.
"Please Lady Stark" the desperate voice of Ser Jaime called "you promised"
The urgency of the situation came to her now, she cursed herself for falling asleep.
"What are your men doing? I was adamant that you hurt neither one of us!" Liya shouted at the Bolton leader
"Really little bird, I don't remember you naming the Kingslayer" the man answered with a grin
Liya looked around, fleetly meeting the eyes of the desperate knight "I ordered your men to keep their hands to themselves!"
A grin formed on his lips "oh they certainly will abide little bird, but that doesn't mean I will" the group of Bolton men laughed "now shut your pretty mouth otherwise the blond bitch is next!"
Ser Jaime protested heavily as he was taken away, eyes pleading to both her and Brienne, but all knew no one could do a thing. Liya failed at a vital moral in her life; duty. She could not give the protection that she'd promised, for that she would never be able to never forgive herself. Pulling against the binds in a last effort, the rope burning and tearing her skin, she could not bear the sight before her. Her vision blurred and warm tears fell down her cheeks, desperately she prayed.
Like a fall into icy waters, Liya was taken from her thoughts at the screams of a man. The sound echoed through the woods followed by laughter, by the gods what were they doing to him? Liya shuddered at images that appeared in her mind.
Ser Jaime's screaming seemed to last for ages before it slowly faded away, seemingly as if the man had passed out from the great amount of pain his body was receiving. Not long after, Ser Jaime's half-unconscious body was dragged back to the tree he was originally tied to.
Liya almost gagged as she saw a bloody chopped off hand dangling around Ser Jaime's neck and as she feared it appeared to have been one of his own. In its place now was only a stump, tied with dirty linen from which the blood already seeping through. Small whimpers escaped his throat and his eyes were dazed by the amount of blood loss. It did not take long before his body gave way and Ser Jaime passed out.
It took them two more days before they arrived at Harrenhall and by the gods, Liya had never felt this horrible. She had hardly slept due to Ser Jaime's condition, her conscience beating her with guilt. Her body and clothes filthy and stomach empty, the food they were given was scarce. Now the three of them were lined up, knee-deep in the dirt, presented to Lord Reese Bolton.
"I present to you, the Kingslayer" their captor announced to Lord Bolton, apparently his name had been Lock "and our King's traitor sister, Liya Stark"
The Lord eyed both of them before he turned to Lock and reprimanded him for taking Ser Jaime's hand and Liya's condition, now commanding for both Brienne and Liya to be freed.
"You're under my protection now," Lord Bolton announced to the two of them, which they gratefully thanked him for. The trio of weary travellers now back on their feet.
"Find suitable rooms for our guests, we'll speak later" Lord Bolton continued, but before the man could leave Ser Jaime fell back onto his knees
A gasp was caught in Liya's throat and quickly she turned to him and took the uninjured left arm over her shoulders and Brienne took the right. Both lifting him with all the strength they had left.
"He isn't well my Lord, is there a maester that can help him" Liya pleaded
Lord Bolton eyed her actions, a Wolf aiding a wounded Lion? Apparently, miracles were still possible "We don't have an official maester, but Qyburn should do"
Liya frowned at his words, but she hoped that this Qyburn could help him in any way. Two of Lord Bolton's men took Ser Jaime from them taking him away. Liya followed behind, ignoring Brienne's request to follow her, she didn't want to let Ser Jaime go in there all by himself.
The three of them were settled in a dark room with only a small fire flickering, Ser Jaime sitting opposite of the supposed maester of this castle. The dirty linen was carefully removed, sometimes taking some of the skin still attached to it. Liya looked upon it from behind, but the sight wasn't good.
Qyburn suggested taking the whole lower arm, but the knight immediately protested for him to spare as much as possible. Instead, Qyburn decided on cutting the rotting flesh and burning the corrupted skin with boiling wine. To her surprise, Ser Jaime didn't want to take the Milk of the Poppy either and neither she nor Qyburn could convince him otherwise. Though immediately as the former maester started, his screams filled the room.
Liya grimaced at the sound and the sweat that was starting to form on his forehead, if he would catch a fever things would start to look even grimmer than they already did. Ser Jaime thrashed around trying to escape his pain and binds somehow.
"Girl!" Qyburn suddenly spoke "keep him down, I need him still" Liya nodded quickly and took her chair closer to Ser Jaime.
She thought of how her mother soothed her when she was sick or in pain. Liya remembered the time that she had a severe stomach ache that had almost lasted seven days. Her mother had held her in an embrace, covering her stomach with her warm hands while speaking soothing words or a song in her ear.
Quickly she wrapped one arm around Ser Jaime, keeping him firmly against the back of the chair. Her other arm circled the other way around with her hand keeping his head from turning. Liya gave a quick nod to Qyburn, letting him know she had him tightly in her arms. She could see the rise and feel the fall of Ser Jaime's chest quicken as Qyburn approached his stump with the knife again.
"Listen to my voice" Liya started just like her mother always did "It will be over soon, I promise" Ser Jaime's body stiffened as Qyburn again started to cut into his flesh. Liya questioned herself on what to say next, she couldn't use the loving words of her mother. So instead, she settled on softly humming an old Northern hymn.
The knight screamed a few times more but after a few hours, only groans of pain escaped him. Liya could feel his shirt slowly damping with his sweat. Ser Jaime's breathing had turned more ragged in the last hour and with her hand, she could feel the rise of heat on his forehead.
"He's developing a fever" Liya quickly said "he won't last another day if we don't stop now"
Ser Jaime looked at her face as she spoke these words, his eyes starting to fill with dread and a slight flicker of fear. Qyburn instead shook his head at her.
"I can't quit now girl. I need to close the wound, otherwise, he'll die even quicker from catching another infection. The reason he's here in the first place" The former maester grumbled and turned to boil another batch of wine on the fire.
"Die?" Ser Jaime spoke softly through his chapped lips
Liya quickly turned to him shaking her head, although she was mostly trying to convince herself that the knight could pull himself through this fever. Somehow she felt tears pricking behind her eyes as she looked upon Ser Jaime. He was looking straight ahead, calm and collected even in this state as if already accepting his fate. A wry smirk formed on his face and turned his head back to her, looking into her eyes.
"At least I'll die looking into the eyes of a beautiful woman" He spoke to her
Wonderful, he'd turned delirious now too, Liya sighed at him but took this cheeky nature as a good sign, but
A grimace fell on her face as Qyburn slowly approached with the boiling pot of wine, she knew what would follow. Qyburn undid the straps on Ser Jaime's right arm and Liya quickly stood up from her seat and steadied Ser Jaime as he almost fell over. The former maester quickly took this opportunity and dunked the wounded part of Ser Jaime's arm into the boiling pot. As if awoken by a nightmare Ser Jaime's eyes sprong open and screamed for all Harrenhall to hear while trying to pull his hand out of the pot. Both Qyburn and Liya could only keep him down for a few more seconds.
"It burned good enough," The maester said inspecting the now fiery red wound with still some sizzling flesh
Jaime felt his heart beating loudly in his chest, by the gods, he'd never felt this exhausted. He slumped back in the chair, his damp shirt sticking to his chest while beads of sweat rolled down his back and forehead. The extreme pain had somehow awoken him slightly, pulling him out of his almost unconscious and delirious state from the fever. A satisficing feeling of coldness on his forehead made him turn his eyes slowly to the woman next to him that was wiping the sweat off his face with a cold rag.
Jaime connected his blue eyes with her stormy greys, they'd drawn him in from the first time they'd locked with his. He thought back on how he'd always found the colour grey dull, sober and emotionless. But looking into her stormy eyes, he found the colour more entrancing than any other.
~
As always,
Thank you for reading,
Love,
Ann
A/n: we'll get to the bath scene next time