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Into My Arms	By : Famous_Blue_Raincoat Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 2617 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: George RR Martin owns these characters in the Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire FANDOM, and I am merely playing with them for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Author's Note: Trigger warning for an execution scene- not graphic, though

Before sunset, Thoros accompanied Beric and his men to a small grove of trees a mile away. Here they sentenced Manfred to death by hanging and carried out the execution. Manfred was unrepentant to the end and used his last breath to curse them all.
For sure, the priest thought the world would be a little better off without the rogue, but something about this felt more like revenge than justice. In the past, Beric had been stoic and dispassionate when passing judgment on the violent wrongdoers they encountered. He never took pleasure in the killing. This time, however, Beric taunted the condemned man before they strung him up. It was unsettling.
During this trial and execution, Lou had been stunned into silence. His eyes were wide with fear, and he shuddered involuntarily. Thoros had advised Beric they should abandon Lou some time the next day, once the Brothers had set off ahead of him.
The four men were quiet on the walk back to the house, until Anguy spotted a pheasant in one of the trees and shot it with an arrow. “We’ll eat tonight,” he said brightly. The mood relaxed a bit after that.
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Sylvie was relieved when they returned, and even happier to see the pheasant. She had been cobbling together what she could find in order to provide dinner, but it wasn't much at all.
Beric looked uneasy and tired. She knew what they had been off doing. It gave her no pleasure to know Manfred had been killed. She tried to convey that earlier, pointing out that he had not succeeded in his attack on her. Wouldn't it be better to simply banish him?
“So he can go out and attack someone else?” Beric had been adamant.
Sylvie reckoned he was probably right about that, but violence was not something she was comfortable with. She knew, however, that she might have to get used to it. Violence had unexpectedly come into her life three weeks ago, and she doubted it would be leaving any time soon.
Lou looked stricken and was sitting alone against the wall. Sylvie felt sorry for him.
She had the distinct impression that he had been bowed by Manfred’s domineering personality. Perhaps he could be reformed, and Sylvie vowed to intervene on his behalf if necessary.
While she was plucking the feathers from the bird, Beric came in and touched her shoulder. Without saying a word he pulled her into an embrace, and they stayed like that for a moment before he released her and said she should continue preparing dinner, which she did.
An hour later they were all sitting on the floor in the main room, finishing up their meal.
“Thank you for catching the bird,” she said to Anguy. He smiled and nodded.
She noticed that Thoros had been watching her intently all evening, looking away when she returned his gaze. The thing Manfred said troubled her. Was he serious or was he just trying to hurt her? Sylvie was torn between telling Beric and leaving well enough alone. One thing was clear. Beric and the priest were close, and Thoros did not trust her.
When they made love that night, it was slower and more gentle than that morning. Beric didn't seem to want to talk, but they locked eyes the entire time. What Sylvie saw there was love...and despair.
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Beric woke up the next morning before Sylvie did. He watched her sleeping and tried to sort out all the threads in his mind. He had felt unmoored since executing Manfred. Normally, meting out justice neither pricked his conscience nor gave him any personal satisfaction. Beric’s nature was decidedly non-vindictive.
Last evening, however, he felt a rush of hatred and adrenaline, a dangerous mix. Had Manfred seriously injured Sylvie, or raped her, Beric was sure he would have killed the man with his own two hands. He was not proud of these impulses. Meeting Sylvie seemed to have awakened many emotions in him that had lain dormant. Both good ones and bad ones. He needed to be vigilant in reigning in some of these feelings.
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Before first light, Thoros roused his men so they could prepare for the journey ahead. Sylvie had wrapped some bread in a cloth for them to take, and they filled their flasks from a nearby stream. As best they could, they tried to wash themselves with the cold water. Hopefully there would be an inn in their near future where they could have a real bath and some ale. The ale was their top priority.
Thoros was very troubled in his mind about leaving Beric behind. He feared his friend would never be able to let go of this woman and return to his destiny. Surely, surely, he would return to his senses?
Thoros assumed that R’hllor meant for some men and women to fulfill their roles by raising children and converting their neighbors, but clearly Beric was not such a man. Nor am I, he thought.
“Thoros,” said Beric, beckoning him over. “We would like you to marry us before you leave.”
So, the man had not changed his mind, as Thoros had hoped. “Are you absolutely certain?”
“I am, friend.” Beric had put his hands on Thoros’ shoulders, squarely facing him, and looking him steadily in the eye.
For a moment, the priest felt as though the ground beneath him had given way. He quickly recovered himself and said resignedly, “If that’s really what you want, Beric.”
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They were married in a simple handfasting ceremony after dawn beside a roaring fire. Sylvie wore the only other dress she owned, which was mauve and gray. Although she fleetingly thought how nice it would be to wear a fancy new dress, she knew that she had the only important thing, and he was standing before her. Beric was serious and dignified, as always, but his hands were trembling. His kiss, though, was warm and lingering, and she could almost imagine they were the only people present.
Thoros’ expression was unreadable. If Sylvie had to describe it, she would say he looked as though he were keeping a tight control on whatever emotions were roiling under the surface. She could understand how Thoros might bear her ill will for distracting Beric from his mission, however brief she feared the distraction would be. Even so, Sylvie sensed another reason for his discomfort, and that possibility led to her disquiet as well.
Thoros surprised her, though, by solemnly taking her hand, kissing it, and saying, “Lady Dondarrion.” She glanced at Beric and saw he was smiling gratefully at the priest. Then the two men embraced for what seemed like minutes but was probably much less. Sylvie thought she saw unshed tears shining in their eyes. She felt tears spring up in her own eyes but concealed them as best she could.
The Brotherhood took their leave shortly afterwards, but not before she overheard Beric asking Thoros to give Lou a second chance. Thoros pressed his lips together in disapproval but only nodded.
And then they were alone. The following two days were the happiest Sylvie had ever experienced, and she suspected, sadly, that this was the apex of her life. Things would only go downhill from here.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Into My Arms