The sound of rope wrapping around wood was a sound that always put Lana on edge. It was the sound of death.

She often thought that assassination was a kinder way to go. Most of the victims had no time to process what was happening until it was too late. But a hanging? That person would have to wait for days knowing how they would die. They had to approach the gallows, stare at the noose, and imagine how long it would be before they stopped breathing.

She scrunched her face at the thought of dying like that.

Although the mustard cloak idiot and his following deserved every bit of it.

Lana leaned against a tree as she watched the men at the gallows, the Brotherhood readying the nooses for hanging.

She eyed Thoros of Myr, who seemed nothing like a priest of R'hllor. He was a drunk, not nearly as cryptic as those from Asshai, and resembled any other soldier. Lana thought it was either a trick, or that the priestesses of Asshai got it all wrong.

It wasn't until Thoros had looked into the fire and spoke of their god that Lana realized his soul was bound to the flames. And Beric's wounds reminded Lana of her own – something that can only be healed by magic, or some kind of god.

The power to bring the dead back was one that Lana hadn't even seen in Sedona, and yet Thoros of fucking Myr had done it more than a handful of times.

Something irregular was brewing in these lands of Westeros. Something incredibly irregular.

What truly awaited them, north of the wall?

Lana had not given Thoros the blade yet. Lana wanted a few more moments to relish in the mourning of the dead. She recalled one conversation with a man who was excited to see his cabbage this year. She wondered if he had lived or not.

She was also truly saddened to know that Ray had been confirmed as among the dead.

Clegane also had yet to make an appearance.

The Brotherhood seemed to know precisely who he was, and Lana had probed them many times to confirm that he, the Hound, Sandor Clegane, had not been found.

They held steadfast to their opinion.

Once this was all said ad done, Lana would have to go looking for him.

The human butchers were placed on wooden stumps, and Lana scoffed when she saw fear on their faces, lightly shaking her head. Under what right did they have to be afraid of death, when they appropriated it out like the grim reaper himself?

Murderers who died as cowards always made Lana wish they faced more than one death. Perhaps Thoros could resurrect them just to kill them again.

Beric and Thoros turned around, and everyone's attention was on the road behind them. Thoros said, "Clegane. What the fuck are you doing out here?"

Lana pushed off the tree she was leaning against and stepped around it. Sure enough, Sandor fucking Clegane was there with a bloodied ax, Stranger in the distance.

His eyes bolted to her movement, and when he realized who she was, his attention was hers.

He headed towards her, slowly eyeing her up and down. When he approached, she thought he might embrace her, but he stopped. "Are you hurt?" he rasped; his eyes masked with a brutal tenor.

She breathed with relief at seeing that he was safe and mostly uninjured. "No."

"Did they touch you?" he asked slowly, the wrath in his eyes somehow intensifying at the suggestion.

"No," she said softly.

The nod of his head was so gentle that she barely caught it before he said, "Good. That's the last time you wander off anywhere alone." He walked over to the other men.

"What the fuck are you doing out here, Clegane?" Thoros asked, and Beric's gaze rested on Lana.

"Looking for them," he said, pointing his ax at the three men who quivered in fear.

"For what reason?" Beric asked.

"They murdered half the village I was helping build. Even killed a friend of mine," Sandor said.

"You got friends?" Thoros asked.

"Not anymore," he said, and Lana looked to the ground with a frown. Ray. Clegane's decision to remain at the village was clearer than ever. He had chosen to let Lana live her life, while he had the opportunity to form a new one for himself.

And now that had been taken from him.

"Then who is she to you?" Beric asked, nodding to Lana, and she looked up to them.

"None of your fucking business. These men are mine," he said, taking a step forward.

"They are ours to kill, as they are our men. We must dole out the punishment," Beric said.

"Let me chop off one hand."

Thoros said, "We're not butchers."

"You can help hang two, out of respects for your loss," Beric said.

Clegane growled, threw the ax down and said, "Bunch of nances. There was a time I would have gutted all of you fuckers just to kill these three."

"You're getting old, Clegane," Thoros chided.

"He's not," he said, placing a foot on one of the stumps, and pushing it. The one in the mustard cloak had the audacity to plead for his life, but he was pleading to the wrong man.

Clegane pushed the tree stump from him, and Beric took care of the third.

When the bodies stopped moving, and with Clegane donning a new pair of boots, they all made their way over to the firepit where a member was cooking up some food.

Clegane neared Lana, and she put a hand on him, even his forearm was thick and hard with muscle. He eyed her guardedly, as that was one of the first times she had touched him like that. "I am sorry they killed Ray. He wasn't half bad."

He regarded her before saying, "They're lucky they didn't kill you, or I would have gutted everyone just to torture them."

Their coupled gaze lingered until Beric interrupted by calling them over.

Lana gave Sandor more space and dropped her hand, turning to face the group. She went to Thoros. "Could I have a word, Thoros?" she asked.

"Will never say no to a pretty lady like yourself asking for alone time," he said and rose with a laugh, to which the others sniggered.

"This alone time is for the Lord," she said, pushing past his comment.

Those words sobered up whatever buzz he had, and he nodded, following her as they stepped away from the group. She stopped underneath a tree to avoid the sunlight that poked through the leaves, leaving bright rays of light on the ground.

"My lady," he said with a nod when she turned to face him.

"You are a true priest of the Lord of Light?"

"I am."

She unbuckled the belt around her waist to hand over the strap, sheath, and sword to Thoros. He cautiously took it, his eyes darting between her and the blade. "What is this?"

"I was told by a red priestess to bring it to you. It is meant for another to wield it, and apparently, you're the last person it goes to before the true holder of this weapon grips that hilt."

"Why you?" he asked, his gaze firm on her. He hadn't even examined the blade yet.

"The priestess said only a few people can carry it. I have the blood for it, and she said she saw me giving it to you in the flames."

"What kind of blood?"

"I lived in Asshai as a child and left lest I become sterile. Aside from living in Asshai, only a priest or priestess of the Lord can carry it, along with those brought back from the dead, like Beric."

"You are from Asshai?" Thoros asked, seriousness and farce mixing in his eyes.

"I am."

He looked at the blade again, slowly pulling it out, taking in a slow breath once he saw what it was. "This is old. This is very old. It's got a darkness in it..."

"Something is coming for us all, apparently, in the north. Something ancient. The darkness in that blade will be cast out when the right wielder holds it."

"This is Lightbringer," he declared, the lines in his forehead deepening as he raised his brows.

"What?" Lana asked, a chill running through her as she watched him examine the blade, staring at the bone. Just whose bone is that? "The Priestess didn't say anything about that."

"Why did you give me Lightbringer?" he asked, ignoring her statement.

She shook her head. "I was instructed to get it to you. You are to give it to the person meant to wield it. She also said you are meant to go north as well. I don't know anything else. You know how it is. It's always cryptic."

He smiled, like a pirate who had been confirmed that the cave they were plundering had gold inside. "Really? Well, you'll be glad to know we already are. How wonderful this all connects."

"You already were?" she asked.

"And now with Lightbringer," he said, his excitement falling as he resheathed the sword. "Although, Lightbringer would never be brought to these lands unless something dreadfully terrifying awaited us all."

Lana's mouth grew dry from how heavily she was breathing. "I believe that is the case."

His expression grew grim. "Then this must reach the right man, or woman. If they do not get it, then the darkness will win. Did the priestess inform you how to activate it?"

"No, she did not."

He nodded. "The Lord will show us eventually," he said, then smiled. "Come, let's eat. Unless Clegane ate it all. He eats like a horse."

They walked over to the fire, and she sat next to Sandor. Thoros recapped what she had brought, and Beric looked at her with bewilderment. "Well, odd strangers in every shadow, it seems. Where are you going now?"

"To the East, to Dragonstone."

"We can help you get there. We were trying to see if Clegane would come north with us as well."

Lana held her breath and tried to hide every ounce of her displeasure at those words. What if he said yes? What if he went with them and left her all alone again?

"I go where she goes," Clegane said, throwing a rib into the fire.

"Then we will help you both get to Dragonstone."

They remained in that location by the river for the remainder of the night, building a few smaller fires throughout. There were about fifty of them traveling together.

Lana sat at a fire by herself, tucked away from the rest of the group. She needed some time alone to consider her life, her wants, and her responsibilities. After a time, her mind muted as she blankly stared at the fire, the crackling of the flames begging for her to look deeper into them.

She sharply turned her head when she heard twigs cracking underfoot.

It was Sandor.

"Are you really coming with me?" she asked with a smile, her body tensing at his presence, although it wasn't out of discomfort.

"For now," he said, sitting down next to her. "Don't know how long I'll stay, but aye, I'll go with you."

She nodded, considering those words. "I do suppose that it is rather unfair to make lifelong commitments like that."

"Except for becoming a kingsguard or marrying a complete stranger," he said. "Another reason why I am done with your lot. It's a bunch of stupid politics and damn near permanent decisions. It's not a good way to live."

"I don't know if I could marry a stranger," she said. "I'm not entirely a part of their lot, in that regard. I honestly don't know if I will ever blend in."

"I don't think you have a choice about who you marry, or they wouldn't let you be a lady," he chided.

She looked at him. "I'd leave the fucking continent and go back to Essos if I had to marry someone that I didn't want. I don't need a castle that badly."

He snickered; his tone sardonic. "What other future awaits you, then? Going to go back to being an assassin?"

"Don't know. I'll figure it out if I have to," she defended. "Come over here just to insult my decisions?" she asked -- half teasing and half serious.

"Came over here because I didn't want to sit with those cunts for any longer, and it's cold away from the fire. And you can get over my honesty. I won't keep my mouth shut when you make poor decisions. Did that for too fucking long."

She chewed on the inside of her lip as she watched him break a twig that he had. "You think this is a poor decision?"

"I think it's ironic that you have more understanding of how most things work in this world, and yet you've convinced yourself that you'll get what you want when you're a lady. Women get traded for marriages, produce her lord husband's ilk, and then grow old as they watch their husband take on mistresses and make little bastards," he said, tossing the wood into the fire, looking down to her. "Most of those marriages are complete shit, and you're an idiot if you think you'll get anything but that."

She licked her lips, ready for every retort that came to her mind, and yet she couldn't verbalize any of them.

He was giving genuine advice to her.

Lana looked back to the fire, taming her enthusiasm for being right. "I am hoping that it will work out. I can't do anything in the free cities for myself; the only trade I know is one that I most likely die young in. Women don't have many options, in truth. I'd have to marry someone. Might as well choose the option where I get a castle. Plus, it's not like Dany needs me to marry to secure peace. That's why she has dragons. I'm hoping that means I get some say in who I marry. Anyway, enough of me, what of you? I see why you stayed in the village. What are you going to do with your life now?"

He pulled a canteen at his side to take a drink, taking his sweet time to reply. "I'll stay with you until your seat is secured. Then might go sell my sword, and if I make enough, buy some land."

"I could pay you enough to make sure you could buy some after this is all done, so you can skip the bullshit of selling your sword. Although I wouldn't mind keeping you around for longer than that. I have a feeling that being a lady is going to be a rather dull affair," she said.

He darkly chuckled. "Well, it's going to have to remain dull. As much as I'd like to keep you safe, there's no fucking way I can watch another man have you. I want you to myself too fucking much to let that happen."

Lana had to replay those words in her head to make sure she heard that correctly. When she realized that she did, the vibrating warmth in her chest somehow grew stronger. She stared at him, and he languidly looked over, his eyes slightly angry and also full of something deeper. He wasn't bullshitting her anymore.

The reality around her melted away, amazed at how quickly the air changed between them. All she wanted now was to touch him.

It must have been written on her face because it didn't take long for Clegane to take control.

He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her hard, a hunger so palpable that it stirred her own passion, pressing just as hard into the kiss.

She put her hands on his unarmored body, taking it in. When she touched his shoulders, she could feel the warmth and strength of him, his body firm with muscle. His arm wrapped around her, and she was cocooned into him, reveling in how it felt to be encompassed by Clegane. She kissed him harder, placing a hand on his neck. His fingers laced into her hair, strengthening his hold. She felt such a high at that moment, all sense of her duty as a lady completely irrelevant as all she wanted was him. She breathed deeply through her nose as they kissed each other, the heat of their mouths exchanging.

His hand behind her head dropped, gripping the outside of her thigh, pulling on her body. Gods did that feel amazing. Lana felt her sheer powerlessness in that grip, rousing something deep in her groin. She was his until he said otherwise. She lightly moaned, and a rumble escaped him, pulling on her harder.

Their movements were growing vivacious, practically begging the other to take it further.

Somewhere in the fog of hormones, she heard someone approaching, laughing with another. Clegane did too, pulling away, his gaze sharp over her head to see who it was.

The voice was clearly Thoros, and Sandor pulled away more. Lana hated that, immediately missing being so close to him. She wanted so much more of him.

Although Clegane didn't take his hand off of her as they sat up straight. "Sorry to interrupt," Thoros said, taking a sip of his flask. "But we got some potential weapons for you, Clegane. Otherwise, we are tossing the rest in the river to cover our tracks."

He pulled at his face with a sigh, letting go of Lana to rise as he said to Thoros, "If you don't got a longsword, I'll take an ax."

"We got both."

"I'll take both."

And like that, Lana was left to sit alone, looking back to the fire. She realized that her want for him seemed to be more than flesh, wishing she could look forward to being close to him later. Even if they committed themselves to each other, what would it amount to? Living all day just to sneak moments of intimacy when they could?

How long could that go on for before either one of them cracked?

And what in seven hells was she to do about her role as a lady now?