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We're All Going to Die	By : pip Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 12196 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones and I make no money from this work of fanfiction.

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Chapter Twenty-four

“What the fuck you doing here, boy?” Tormund growled, too surprised to think sensibly, and Clegane laid a hand on his arm.

Podrick looked just as shocked as they did. Perhaps he had some legitimate business, and maybe he hadn't actually seen Brienne leave. She was late, because they'd made her late. And yet...

“Both of you!” Podrick said, twisting his head as if it were difficult for him to comprehend. He shot Clegane a somewhat nervous glance, and jerked his head at Tormund. “I was expecting him.”

The lad drew in a deep breath that puffed out his chest. He seemed to be facing something all over again, something he thought he'd already come to terms with. “All right,” he said at last, nodding. “So, it's both of you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Clegane demanded.

“What do you think?!” Podrick shouted back, taking a sudden step forward. He was fully dressed, while they were not, and it granted him an advantage for all of half a second before Clegane stood up, dropping the bedclothes heedlessly. He towered over the lad, but Podrick didn't back away. Clegane laughed slowly.

“You,” he said, actually surprised at the level of daring. “You've come here to warn us off or something, haven't you?”

Podrick swallowed. “I didn't expect you to be here. But now you are, so you're included, I suppose.” He took a deep breath. “If you hurt her, I...” He looked up, all the way up, and faltered. “Well, I have to try, don't I?”

“Hurt her?!” Tormund demanded from behind him, and again Clegane laid a restraining hand on the wildling.

“It's all right, Tormund. This one thinks he's become her valiant protector,” he noted with sardonic amusement, and suddenly Tormund laughed, rich and deep, while Podrick looked nervously between them both.

“We'd kill you before you could even draw breath,” Clegane advised him. “And besides, we'd never hurt her.” He sat down on the bed again. “We're completely bloody addicted to her.”

“Aye,” Tormund added. “We've already killed some of those who hurt her, boy.”

Podrick looked at them both, then went to shut the door that was still ajar, coming back to stand before the bed. Now that the reason for his visit was out in the open, he appeared at a bit of a loose end, staring at them. With a sigh, he sat down on the bed between them. He suddenly relaxed and leaned forward, chin on his hands, dejected.

“It was a decent effort,” Clegane said charitably, patting him on the back. “For what it's worth.”

“It was shit,” Podrick replied. “I'm rubbish at this stuff.” He stole a glance at Tormund. “I don't want her like you two do. But I had to come. It's just that she's so...” He drew in a breath through his nose and then sighed again. “She's my friend.” He pulled a face. “Kind of. When she's not shouting at me, that is. She's got a heart in there, you know? Don't break her like that. She's been through more than enough.”

“Never,” Tormund declared, passionate, and Podrick blinked at him, as if seeing it for the first time. Something in the boy relaxed.

The way he spoke... suddenly something clicked in Clegane's head. “She's confided in you!” he accused, and Podrick became alarmed, inching away, but there was nowhere to go since Tormund was on the other side of him. “What did she say? What's she told you?”

“Nothing! It's not mine to tell!” he spluttered, eyes wide.

“Tell us,” Tormund demanded. Podrick gulped.

“I can't! She terrifies me more than you two do. She'd kill me! Really slowly!”

Well, that was true. The boy was cringing between them now, eyes squeezed closed, then when nothing happened to him, he sneaked a look. It was as if he couldn't help getting himself into trouble.

“Don't you use her, either of you,” he warned seriously, actually daring to waggle his finger. Clegane opened his eyes wide. He shared a look with Tormund, and then they dragged Podrick up the bed between them, keeping him captive while he thrashed and squealed like a stuck pig.

“Use her?” Tormund thundered, and Podrick's face went white as ashes.

“Well, y-you know. I've been there myself. I know how it works. Don't do it to her. If you have her here, you'd better love her more than life.”

Clegane growled, but Tormund tilted his head, staring deep. “You...” he said slowly. “We love her more than life. Be sure of it.”

“All right,” Podrick agreed, nodding. “So... you can let me up now!” he said, his voice overly bright, struggling, trying to free his trapped arms.

“Oh, no!” said Clegane, enjoying himself far too much. This was the best fun he'd had in ages. “I had no idea you were the voice of experience, boy. You go ahead and try and tell Tormund what to do there.” He laughed, and shared a look of amusement with the wildling.

“What experience you got, boy?” Tormund demanded. Podrick stared wildly between them, clearly terrified of looking down. He gulped.

“N-nothing, really.”

“Oh, don't be modest now. We're not going to let you go until you tell us, anyway, so you might as well spill it.” Clegane waited for a moment or two, and Podrick slumped in defeat.

“Well,” he began. “When I was in Lord Tyrion's service, he gave me gold for some whores.”

“And?” Clegane demanded.

“That's it, I swear!” Podrick burbled. “Please!”

“Oh, you're a terrible liar, boy,” Clegane said, smirking. He tightened his grip on Podrick's arm. “And...?” he asked, once more, deliberately menacing.

Podrick gasped. “They wouldn't take it.”

Clegane frowned. “The gold? They wouldn't take the gold?” Podrick nodded.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I think they liked it,” he confessed, miserable, as if it was a thing he hated.

Tormund drew back in surprise, and looked Podrick up and down, rather more of the down than the up. “Hm.. you're not hiding any kind of pecker in there,” he said at last. “You a grower?”

“What?” Podrick said, blinking. “I don't...”

“No, then,” Tormund said, still mystified. “Huh.”

“So what did you do to them?” Clegane demanded, and Podrick closed his eyes with a desperate shrug.

“I told Lord Tyrion. I don't know!” He sighed, as if he'd been here before. “They just... liked it!”

The wildling leaned in close, and Podrick opened his eyes again. Once more, Clegane saw someone else caught in the spell of Tormund's attention. “You tell me boy,” he growled, his voice low, “because I'm going to do it to her, and you want her to like it, don't you?”

Podrick nodded hesitantly. They all waited. “Come closer,” he said at last, and Tormund leaned in further, until Podrick could whisper into his ear. Clegane strained to hear what was said, but he couldn't quite make it out. Suddenly, Tormund laughed, pulling away.

“Yes. That would do it,” he said. “Clever boy.” Then he grinned, looked at Clegane. “Never fear, we already do that.”

“What?” Clegane was still in the dark, and the secret was about to kill him.

“When you fuck her, what do want most of all?” Tormund asked, his eyes alight with laughter. “For her. In your heart? Think carefully. Honestly.”

Clegane thought for a moment, and he was as honest with himself as he could be. He brought her to mind, everything about her. “Brienne? Most of all, I want to make her happy.” It was ridiculously sappy, and kind of simple, but...

“There it is,” Tormund said. Clegane frowned for a moment, still not getting it. He stared at Podrick. Make her happy? And then he understood, and he smirked.

“No one ever wants to make whores happy,” he said, nodding. “Please them, maybe, once in a blue moon. Happy? Never. Until you came along, all innocent like.” He laughed then, because it was kind of hilarious. “Aww! No wonder they didn't want paying for it!”

“And no wonder you couldn't explain to the little man,” Tormund continued, taking over. “He'd never have understood it, shrewd as he is. At least in this, you're a better man than he is.”

Still smirking, Clegane put some little things together, ridiculous rumours he'd heard. “And now, because of that, because it was a Lannister you were squired to, you have yourself quite the little reputation going on.”

“Can I get up now?” Podrick asked, his face burning at having made the admission.

“You'd better,” Tormund said, shifting from the bed in one fluid movement. “We gonna be late for breakfast.” He went around to find his clothes. “Come on, Clegane.”

He caught hold of his own clothes at Tormund threw them at him, and fitted himself into them as quickly as he could. “We'll see you in training, boy,” he said with a wicked wink.

“I don't suppose... I mean, do you think we could forget about this?” Podrick asked hopefully.

Clegane laughed, and shook his head. “Not a chance.”

“Ah...” Tormund wandered over, now fully dressed, and ruffled the boy's hair as he walked to the door with them. “No.”

“I am so dead,” Podrick observed unhappily.

“Don't worry,” Clegane said. “You get breakfast first,” he noted.

“Yeah... I suppose.” The little squire sighed, and it sounded like it came right from the bottom of his boots. He and Tormund pushed him out of the door between them, and halfway down the corridor Tormund clapped him on the back, pushing him forward about half a foot.

“That's the spirit!”

They left him there while they went to bathe, as quickly as they dared, racing to the breakfast table with seconds to spare. Brienne awaited them, as beautiful and delectable as ever. Was it his imagination or was her hair just a touch longer today? It seemed to be flirting with the tips of her ears, curling there.

Forever in a day.

Perhaps they could make that for her, with a little planning. Maybe tomorrow, if it would make her happy. Now that he'd said it out loud, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about it.

“Have either of you seen Podrick?” she asked suddenly, frowning as she looked around the mess hall. She wasn't even looking at him. He denied it, as did Tormund. “I must have words. It's not like him to be late, and he mustn't begin now.”

“Or maybe you could let it go,” Clegane commented casually, remembering how he'd been prepared to face death for her sake. For the sake of her heart. It was kind of touching, really. Stupid and reckless, yes, but touching.

“Let it go?” Brienne queried, her voice harsh. Now she was staring at him, her eyes steely blue, and Clegane sat up straight, jolted right out of his romantic fancies by hard reality... by her. He glanced to Tormund, but the wildling was keeping well out of it. He sighed inwardly. He could either back down, or argue the point. Before he could resolve on doing either, breakfast arrived, and that distracted all of them for at least ten whole minutes.

Happily, he thought he'd managed to get away with it, until it was all done and they were readying the practice area, only for Podrick to finally show up. Brienne took one look at the squire then marched over to Clegane, coming to stand right in front of him.

“Podrick's here,” she announced. Clegane took another look, since she clearly expected it of him. He hummed in agreement, as if he didn't care one way or another.

“I'm going to tell him off,” she said deliberately. At that he nodded once, but didn't say anything. “Because he deserves it.”

Then she stalked off and remonstrated with the boy about his timekeeping in a way that made him almost cringe. Somehow, just one innocuous suggestion and he'd made it worse.

“Shit,” he muttered. Tormund laid a hand on his shoulder. Brienne's voice rose to a fair shriek as Podrick attempted to help her with armour that she already put on, and he did wince then.

“Fucking hell,” he swore, turning away, shaking his head slightly.

At last it seemed she was done, and she stood on the sidelines as she'd said earlier, leaving Podrick to face them alone. Clegane noted that Tormund had chosen a normal steel blade rather than Heartsbane, and he approved. They exchanged a look, and it was clear they both understood what was required now.

They couldn't ignore it, neither of them. That was absolutely out of the question. The boy had made the attempt, and to ignore it would be to disrespect the motive. They couldn't do that, and so he had to pay. It was a harsh lesson, but it had to be given.

They faced him both together, but took him on one at a time, like a tag team, Brienne watching from the side. They'd practised like this before, and Podrick didn't seem so alarmed at first, especially when he noticed how easy they were making it for him, stretching it out so that it lasted.

The first ten minutes or so passed in a similar fashion to any other training session, but there was no resolution. Between them, they made certain of it. After the first twenty, the boy was tiring, sweating. They pushed him just enough to keep him at the limit of his skill and endurance without disarming him or scoring a win. And yet it was becoming clear to Podrick he had no hope at all of winning against either of them.

They toyed with him, merciless, until he was begging them to end it with his eyes, if not with his words. After forty minutes he was stumbling around the arena, always with one or the other of them following him, keeping him busy. He didn't dare to concede in front of her. Clegane wondered how long it would take before Podrick fell to his knees and begged for them to stop.

Before it could get to that point, Brienne appeared in front of them, sword drawn, as if to shield Podrick from any more. “Enough,” she said, and he and Tormund put away their weapons immediately. They didn't want to engage her, not before she was ready.

They drew together into a small group, as if to confer.

“You didn't need to do that,” she said quietly, as if displeased.

“Yes, we did,” he replied simply, not bothering to explain any further. She glared at him, and a frisson of something passed between them. He saw it reflected in her eyes, and she backed away a step, because this was a public place. Clegane smiled slowly. “You feeling better yet?” he asked, his meaning clear, and she licked her lips unconsciously.

“A little.”

She turned away to deal with Podrick, and he knew he'd won.

“You've done well today, Podrick. I'm proud of you,” she was saying. “And, I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier,” she admitted out loud. “You're never late, and I'm sure you have a good reason.” She sighed. “I wasn't quite myself this morning.”

“It's all right, my Lady,” Podrick replied. “May I go now?”

She nodded, and he withdrew, with a dark look to the two of them as Brienne turned back around.

It was early to call a halt, but they got rid of their armour right there all the same. That undercurrent of energy was building as they made their way back to her room, and by the time she closed the door behind them it seemed as if the space between them might begin to crackle with it.

She turned to him, her eyes dark. “Brienne,” he began, thinking maybe to clear the atmosphere a little. Just one casual suggestion and it had all got right out of hand. He couldn't think where it had come from.

“Be quiet,” she said, a warning in her voice. “Just shut up.”

She used a chair to raise her feet one by one, unlacing her boots in a temper and rush, toeing them off before she came to stand in front of him, fingers moving to the buttons of her shirt.

“Get undressed,” she said, staring at him, and he licked his lips, already at work, until it became like a race between them. Tormund was somewhere, but he couldn't even spare a glance for what the wildling was doing right now. She filled his entire world, looking at him like that.

When at last they were naked, she ran her palms up over his chest, her eyes narrowing in lust. She skimmed those palms over his shoulders, as if taking the measure of him, then squeezed at his biceps. She shoved him back, hard, right onto the bed, until they tumbled onto it, her on top of him, astride him looking down, and he shook his head.

“Oh, I don't think so,” he told her, his voice low, and she frowned.

“What?” she asked, imperious.

He caught her around the waist, his thumbs caressing just lightly. “You've been one hard bitch all morning, out there. In here, you don't get to do that. You want it like this, you'd better start being a bit nicer to me.”

That frown of hers deepened, but only momentarily, before he tightened his hold on her and rolled them over, reversing their positions. She gasped beneath him in surprise, and he looked her up and down.

“You're hard to me out there, and I'll be just as hard to you in here. Believe it.”

Somewhere behind him, he heard Tormund's amused laughter.

He took hold of her hands and placed them over her head, then moved to map the shape of her body with his palms. She reached out to touch him in turn and he replaced her hands above her head, this time with a slap to her thigh as a reminder.

A sudden flare of fire in her eyes alerted him, and he caught her wrist before she could hit him, leaned on her other arm. She stared up, caught and helpless, then raised her head enough to kiss him. It was as violent and hard as any kiss he'd shared with the wildling, until it inevitably softened into something else. They almost seemed to melt into each other, falling down into the bed, into each other arms, and he'd let her go. Her arms were around him, and when he drew back her eyes were closed, lips wet and trembling.

She let her head fall to one side as if in surrender. Her body shivered beneath him. “Sandor, I'm sorry,” she said, as sincere as she'd ever been. And he saw her throat as she swallowed. “I didn't mean to be hard on you. It's just...” She sighed. “I wanted you so much this morning, and then we couldn't, and the more the time went on, everything just... I felt all wrong somehow. Like there was something missing, or I'd forgotten something. And you didn't seem bothered at all, and I just, couldn't bear it to see you like that.”

She was confessing to her own sexual frustration like she'd done something terrible, and he groaned. “Brienne. It's all right.”

“Is it?” she asked sharply, staring at him now. “Because I was certain I had more self control than this.”

“You've never had these desires before,” Clegane said, taking the opportunity to run his hands all over her. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her, not at all, and he remembered his thought about how it was like breaking the wall of a dam, and how strong those desires might run in her. How deep.

She sighed, and she seemed a little upset then as she gazed up at him. “I'd give anything for more time. Not just with the two of you, but to get a grip on all of this. Did I make a mistake, doing this now? Honestly?”

He shook his head. What a question!? “No, you didn't. Don't ever ask me that again, Brienne, for fuck's sake.”

“But I've given you power over me, haven't I?” She glanced aside as Tormund joined them. “Both of you. I didn't realise how much until now, until it's too late.”

Clegane shrugged. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, the proportions of her. She was so utterly perfect for him. “So? You think that doesn't go both ways?” he asked, and she frowned. “You say no to us for one day, I guarantee we'd be crawling at your feet by the end of it.”

From the corner of his eye, he could see the face Tormund was pulling, but then the wildling puffed out a breath through his lips and nodded, shrugging, admitting to it. Brienne giggled at them both in a kind of relief. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, serious, finally letting his hands get to the prize, her breasts, squeezing them a little so that she stretched out below him, her own hands curling around the small of his back. “Now. You feeling better?” She nodded, and he grinned. “Good. Because I've been wanting to do you properly since we started all this.”

“Properly,” she repeated, her eyes darkening the way they always did. “But I want to fight you both today,” she warned. “If I miss the morning, I need to practice in the afternoon. You know I do. And I want lunch.”

“Then you'd better stop talking, woman, and start getting in the mood,” he suggested. “Like about ten minutes ago.”

Brienne moaned as he tormented her with those hands, thumbs brushing over her nipples. “I'm in the mood,” she said, as if trying to convince herself, then she shook her head. “You can't just say 'get in the mood' and that's it,” she complained, her eyes suddenly flashing at him. “I don't think I work that way.”

“Want to bet?” Clegane murmured wickedly. He'd learned some secrets about what she liked over the past few days, after all, starting with this, and he nuzzled into her neck, hearing her catch her breath as he kissed her there. Her skin tasted clean, and just behind her ear there her skin was soft as the finest velvet, and he wanted to be inside her. Her hands were on his shoulders, holding him close, palms warm while her body became inviting. Nevertheless, he moved his weight off of her, and moved one hand down, only to gently brush the back of his knuckles over her stomach. She shivered and whispered his name.

Now he moved down her body, deliberating over which one, before latching onto her left nipple and letting himself go on that while Tormund moved in to kiss her. As he looked up, he could see the wildling's large hand, gentle on the side of her face, guiding her lips to his. The kiss was deep from the off, muffling her but for a few stray murmurs of high-pitched sound.

Soon, he moved his hand down from her sensitive stomach, to the inside of her thigh, stroking up. Tormund too, on the opposite side, until her body began to move between them in little upwards and outward motions, suggestive as hell.

At last, he pulled his lips away with a smacking sound and slid one finger between her pussy lips, circling that finger around her clitoris. She was already moist and hot in there. Tormund pulled back too, and she moaned, long and low, aware of the teasing.

“Sandor,” she said, turning that intense blue gaze on him. Strange how he'd become used to it. Now it didn't alarm him as it had at first, dangerous though she was like this. He flicked that finger against her, just there, again and again, and it was sticking out like a little pebble, longing for his touch. He stared into her eyes as he did it.

“Now you're in the mood,” he remarked, touching himself with his other hand. There wasn't any need. He wanted her more than air, more than life.

She narrowed her eyes at his words, then half sat up, her hands tightening on him, almost dragging him up the bed as she reclined back down. Now she was wild. Clegane felt his heart beating faster. “Give it to me,” she demanded. “I want it.”

“Yes!” He was quick about it, not just because she wanted it, but because he wanted it, to be there again. His weight was on her, and his hand was already guiding himself as she wrapped a leg around his hips, pulling him forward as she moved, doing half of the job for him. And he gave it some power, because he knew she was tight, but he went deeper than he expected because of what she did, because her body was ready, and so wet with her juices, and for a moment he almost lost himself in that heat and pressure. It sucked at him, like she was made for his cock.

“Oh, fuck! Brienne!” That first thrust inside, and he had to stop. He was so deep in her, and this time she hadn't frozen on him. This time all that wonderful multitude of sensation was his right from the off, and he stared into her eyes, right beneath him, because she was so tall and they were on the same level. Being inside her... nothing else mattered.

He grunted, because she moved slightly beneath him and he wasn't ready. “More,” she said, and he growled then, holding her down with all of his weight. Gave her a couple of quick, sharp movements that were more about finding his own control than anything else, and the deep look to her faded away a little as she cried out.

He breathed heavily for a few seconds, finally becoming used to the glorious feeling of it, and then he knew he could continue without losing it too soon. She stared up at him, and he blinked.

“Are you all right?” he asked then, seeing how she'd come back to herself a little, and she nodded.

“Still sore?”

She drew in a deep shuddering breath that he could feel, and he hummed in appreciation. “No. Not so that I want you to stop. I want this. I want you.” She swallowed. “You feel so good, Sandor.” His name came out on a little whimper of need, and then at last he moved again, beginning a slow in and out that would please them both. He felt her arms and her legs embrace him, her body moving in tandem with his, and yet by far he was most aware of how she felt around his cock.

She let her head fall back, mouth open, and he raised a hand to her face, moving her head so that he could stare into her eyes as he fucked her. That he could do it like this was a pleasure in itself. That he could see it in her eyes as he drove himself deep into her, over and over.

“Sandor,” she moaned, eyelids flickering.

“Look at me,” he urged. She did so, and he felt the effect on her as he stared into her eyes. She liked it too, so intimate like this. “I want to see it, when you come,” he said, and she shuddered, but she didn't look away...

To be continued...

Author's Note: Yes, I'll be continuing with this very scene, but the chapter was getting kind of long, so... please leave a word or two for the muses. :) I hope you had fun!

By the way, I was in hospital earlier this week, hence why updates slowed down. If anyone is still reading, hopefully chapters should pick up the pace again now I'm out, at home, and feeling a little better.

I posted on the forum, but the people who needed to see it won't have read it, and it's probably too late to put it here, but... it really feels as though I've lost some of you, and I'm just not sure why. If you read this on the off chance, and I've written something that's ended up making you give up on this story, please let me know what put you off reading further.

Review responses (if any) will be here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/61848-pippychicks-review-replies-tv/
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