I know that I have a lot of imagines on the go at the moment, but I have been thinking about this one for a while, and now I am finally getting it down onto paper.😁 I thought that it was high time that I did a Beric imagine, so if you have been waiting for one, here it finally is. Hope you enjoy.

"This is ridiculous." Thoros complained, as he and Beric made their way further up the mountain. The heavy hot breath of their horses mixing with the mist that surrounded the pair. A mist that seemed to be getting thicker by the minute.

"We don't even know if these so called "Brethren" exist. And even if they do, there is no guarantee that they won't kill us, never, mind agree to help. I think that Jon has sent us on a wild goose chase." Thoros continued to grumble. The priest pulling his cloak tighter around himself as it suddenly seemed to get colder.

Beric and Thoros had been travelling for days. The difficult terrain taking its toll on even the two battle hardened warriors. Beric had agreed to journey up into the floating mountains in an attempt to find a clan that were simply known as The Brethren.

Legend had it that The Brethren were the worst of the worst. A band of cut throats that were originally said to have been Iron Island pirates that would pillage the mainland. That like House Greyjoy, they could trace their bloodlines back to the loyal men of the Grey King during the age of heroes; but when the Ironborn had been driven back to the Iron Islands following the burning of Harrenhal, and the deaths of King Harren Hoare and his sons, a group had managed to escape, choosing to head high up into the bleak mountains of the north rather than return to the windswept, barren shores of the Islands. Since then, few had dared to venture to the lofty peaks, most fearing the formidable reputation of a clan that very few had ever seen.

In desperation, Jon had called on volunteers to hunt down some of the greatest warriors that the Seven Kingdom's, and the lands beyond, had to offer. And while Jorah and Sandor had been sent off to find a witch, Tormund and Gendry to locate someone, or something called the Beast Queen, Beric had decided that he and Thoros would venture up into the high peaks to find out if the legends of the Brethren were true.

"Why did you agree to this in the first place?" Thoros asked. Beric rolling his eye as his old friend continued to complain.

"Now Thoros. Ya can't tell me, that you of all people aren't even just a little curious about this clan? They are the stuff of legend, supposedly tha descendants of some of tha most feared men to ever sail the seas. I'd a thought that ya intellectual curiosity would have got the better of ya. And despite the fact that ya killed a few Ironborn at the Siege of Pyke, I thought out of all of us, you and I would be the best to talk to them." Beric said with a slight chuckle, as he himself shivered against the freezing cold wind.

"The only thing gettin the better of me, is this fuckin mist. I swear that I could cut it with my sword. How are we to know whether we are on the right track or not? In this shit we could walk right past them and not know. For contrary to popular opinion, even an Ironborn can be quite and sneaky." Thoros continued, waving his hand in front of his face in a pointless attempt to make the ever encroaching haze, disappear.

Beric had to admit that the Red Priest had a point, and that given the fact that he could now barely see his hand in front of his face, the Lord of Blackhaven decided that discretion was the better part of valour and that it may pay to rest rather than face a foe that they couldn't see, or as Thoros had pointed out, pass the very people that they were looking for.

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Beric and Thoros sat around the fire, their horses shielding the pair from a wind that seemed to whip around the lofty peaks unabated.

"Do we even know what we are looking for? We have all been sent out to look for these legendary people that only the Lord of Light himself would know if they are real, all in hopes that they will agree to join us in a fight against a foe that most people don't want to believe even exist." Thoros mussed, blowing on his hands as another gust of freezing air rushed towards the two friends.

"Aren't you tha one that's supposed to know things like that? All I know is what Jon told me, and that was to search for the Brethren's camp above the clouds, and if we find em, somehow talk em into joining us. And try not to get ourselves killed in the attempt." Beric explained, hoping that if the worse did happen, that it would happen to him and his old friend would once again be able to bring him back from the dead, even though he hated the idea of it.

Beric was always secretly worried about how many times Thoros had brought him back to life, the Lightening Lord freely admitting that each time it happened, he would lose a part of himself, including things about his own life and past. Beric confessed that he had no idea why the Lord of Light kept allowing him to be brought back from the gates of death, but there was obviously a reason, and Beric found himself hoping that the god had not lost his need for him just yet.

"Maybe we should try and sleep. Hopefully this mist will have lifted by the morning, and we'll be able ta see where we are going." Beric said with a yawn as he pulled his coat around his shoulders, both men doing their best to get comfortable on the rocky ground beneath them.

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The night we as quiet as the grave, and even the horses had grown silent, the only noises splitting the eerie serenity being the gentle crackle of the dying fire, and the wind which seemed to be singing a gentle lullaby as it passed through the cracks, crags, and crevasse of the ominous peaks. The mist finally lifting to reveal a star studded blanket of the blackest night sky, the moon staring down onto the clouds that made it appear that the peaks were floating above them.

Normally Beric and Thoros would take it in turns to stand watch, making sure that the coast was clear for the other to sleep; but a mixture of exhaustion, an uncomfortable day in the saddle, and the heavy mist had lulled the two old friends into a deep slumber. A slumber so heavy that neither of the seasoned warrior heard the group of creatures that made their way silently towards them, the five fur clad beings moving in and out of the surroundings, appearing as if they were part of the very landscape itself.

Before either man could reach for their sword, the pair found themselves surrounded by heavy bodies, their heads covered by roughly woven hessian bags, as they were man handled to their feet, their hands bound as they were dragged along.

"Thoros?" Beric called out, hoping that somehow the Red Priest had escaped and had managed to get to their swords.

"I'm here." Thoros replied, irritation in his voice as it became obvious that he was in the same precarious situation as Beric was.

"Shut them up and take them to the settlement." A gruff voice called out. Beric and Thoros finding a length of material forced around their mouths before they were hauled up onto horse back.

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The journey had not been a long one, but both veteran fighters realised that they were being taken up higher into the floating mountains, and try as they might they knew that it was better to allow their captors to take them wherever they were going, and hopefully one of them could talk their way out of their predicament at the other end.

"OPEN THE GATES!" The same gruff voice bellowed. Beric and Thoros listening as what sounded like two great old wooden gates were slowly pulled open. The sound of a multitude of voices filling their ears as the horses were moved forward.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" A man chuckled as the two friends had the gags and bags pulled from their heads, the two squinting painfully, as the light of hundreds of candles temporarily blinded them.

"We.......we have come to find the Brethren. We need their help." Beric tried to explain, as his eyes slowly adjusted to the flickering light. A huge man making his way over to them, looking both men up and down as they were forced to their knees in front of him.

"The Brethren? No one would normally dare come up the floating mountains, never mind dare to find the Brethren. Ya either very stupid, very brave, or very desperate if ya come all this way ta find em." The enormous man, who looked more like a great bear than a person, growled. Another chuckle leaving his lips as Beric tried to get to his feet but was forced back down.

"At this present moment in time, the first and third of those sound about right." Thoros grumbled, as a large pair of hands pushed down on his shoulders.

"Ha ha ha. I like that. You have a sense of humour. A handy thing ta have in the face of death." The big man called out. The sounds of others laughing filling the space, as a normally calm Beric found himself growing angry.

"Athar. Be nice to our guests. I wish to find out why they have come all this way before I decide their fate." A beautiful voice called out. Both Beric and Thoros staring wide eyed as a woman stepped forward, indicating for the two of them to be helped to their feet.

"Now then. Which one of you two men want to explain to me why you have dared come to my kingdom, and why you are looking for my people?"