As they rode, Arya looked like a defeated child, barely looking up and not caring about getting too close to the Hound on their ride, her head resting on his chest from time to time. Usually she liked to fuss about being around his stench, but now she didn't seem to care.

The first thought that came to Lana was she didn't care how much the Hound tried to come off as a cold jackass, he had heart in there. He let the wolf girl sulk, even though on a normal basis, he'd tell her to fuck off.

The second thought was that Lana wasn't sure how to console the girl. It was common to lose parents, siblings, and children in the streets that Lana lived for so long. She didn't know how to console someone who once had so much, and now had nothing.

Lana never really had anything. Except for Sedona, although she had said goodbye to Sedona a long time ago, and had the whole word of Essos to explore.

The trio trotted on the road for a while at a slow trot, the sound of horse hooves on dirt their melody. Eventually, as the road entered a wooded path, they heard men in the distance, and Lana put her hood up, along with Clegane. Lana didn't quite trust the Hound, but she also saw the loyalty he was capable of.

She didn't doubt he'd leave Lana behind if it meant his own survival, although she saw how he protected the Stark girls. Somewhere in there was a more honorable man waiting to come out, in his own definition of honor. She didn't blame him. The Mountain did atrocious things to the Targeryens, and to imagine growing up with him made her shudder. And the Lannisters were slimy bags of skin holding together rotten organs.

The fact that the Hound had any shred of honor or decency left was probably a miracle.

Then Arya jumped down and approached the group that were taking about the failed Stark wedding.

As she spoke to them, Lana got off her horse, drawing one of the swords she had stolen from the guards she killed, Clegane having kept those weapons.

Although she still didn't have any armor on, and really had no idea what the fuck she was doing when it came to fighting plated men.

She'd figure it out for Arya, though.

Clegane did the same and they watched on, and then Arya sliced the Fray man's neck. Lana's heart hammered fiercely at the random change in pace.

Clegane barreled in with a speed that a man his size should not have had. It was like watching a horse move with the dexterity of a cat, except he hit with the strength of a bear, cutting clean through a man.

Gods, he was a terrifying foe. These men stood no chance.

Lana came upon another, wanting a piece of action, and parried him, stabbing him in the heart, feeling her blade pierce through the rib cages. She yanked her sword out and ducked another attack before Clegane cut that one's head off.

Arya killed the last one.

After a quick exchange between Arya and Clegane, he wasted no time as he sat to eat the food they left over. Arya turned around. "Blood is still gushing from them and you're already eating?"

"I am hungry. And I am a big fucker. I need a lot of food. My brother and I used to eat an entire table's food when we were growing."

"I don't care about you and your brother," Arya said, a new coldness in her that was hard for Lana to ignore.

"Of course I'd get stuck with a hateful thing like you," Clegane said. Lana wiped her blade on one of the dead.

"My family just died!" Arya exclaimed.

"And I saved you. And yet all you can do is be nasty to me."

"That's because you're a horrible shit," Arya said, sitting down on some stone.

"Probably for the best that you won't become a lady. You'd be terrible at it," Clegane said, eating the squirrel on the fire, the wind blowing and changing the shadows of the leaves that protected them from the sun.

"I never wanted to be a lady anyway. Besides, with all my family dead, there's no point to it anymore," Arya said with a brokenness that Lana had seen more than a hundred times.

And yet, this time it seemed to really break Lana's heart.

"Your sister is still alive, last I checked," Lana said. Anything to maybe make her feel better.

"Saw her in her room before I left," Clegane added

"Why were you in her room?" Arya asked with disgust on her face.

"Wanted to see if she wanted me to take her north. During the siege."

"Why would you do that?"

"So she didn't have to marry Joffrey. Rob that little shit of his precious toy."

"Well, you obviously failed," Arya criticized.

"Poor little bird thought that Stannis would save her. She's slower than you at getting how the world works. I can't change that."

Lana was tired of their squabbles, and noted how much blood was in her shirt now, and wiped some from her face. "I am going to wash my shirt in the river. Don't need blood all over it," Lana said after grabbing some of their food to snack on as she walked.

"Yes, better not have blood on the Lady's clothes," Clegane teased.

The corner of her mouth curled. This fucker here...She turned around. "In my experience, blood on a woman's shirt does very little to gain the trust of strangers," she retorted, and turned back around as he continued to eat.

Lana squatted in to the river and cleaned out the blood, disappointed it wasn't a black shirt that she wore, which would hide the stains better. She was tempted to mix it with dirt to hide her blood that stained the shirt from a few days ago. After looking at it, however, it seemed that it would be fine. A shiver ran through her as the water was cold. She washed her face and hair, wiped at her leathers, and carefully exited the river, careful not to slip on a smooth rock.

Once standing on land, she looked around, breathing in the fresh air of grass and water.

Westeros truly was a beautiful place.

The world in the wild out here was so peaceful, and yet the men who lived here were so insistent on war. If all else failed, maybe Lana could buy a small piece of land out here to farm on, with a stream nearby to sit and drink her coffee and wine. Although she'd have to find a husband to help man the farm, and a way to import coffee and wine. It would be hard to remember that a lot of the goods in Westeros came from Essos, considered a luxury here rather than a commodity.

In the end, she just really wanted out of the Crimson Company. She had enjoyed her time with them, but they were a means to an end, and assassins rarely grew old.

She was only with twenty-three namedays, but after her encounter with the faceless woman, she knew leaving to join Dany was a wise choice.

Lana walked back over the soft grass with her shirt in hand, wearing her leather corset as her the fabric dried, her hair wet and leaving streams of water down her breasts and stomach.

When she came back to the clearing, Clegane was with Stranger, and eyed her body with a slow gaze.

"Going to ride around looking like that? Thought I told you it's distracting."

The beautiful nature lightened her mood, and felt playful. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh fuck off," he said and got up to tighten his saddle, and with that statement, she looked at his hands in a very specific kind of way.

She averted her gaze, as that was the last thing she needed right now. "My shirt is wet. Want to let it dry. The Dothraki ride around with their tits out. Mine are covered."

"I heard they fuck like animals too."

"That's true."

"Probably a reason for that."

She smiled and put the shirt on the butt of Clemmy.

Lana found herself thinking about her life in Essos, growing up with Sedona, living as a killer, and now stuck here with one of the best fighters in Westeros and a lady of Winterfell.

Peace was the main thing she wanted when Dany took the throne, but Lana hoped her life would still be interesting when living in Dragonstone. She couldn't imagine have every day be the same.

She felt like she was being picky. She either staid an assassin and lived with her own riches, or she became a great lady. Either option was a solid one, and yet she didn't feel completely satisfied with either.

As they rode, Lana enjoyed the sun on her skin. There was something she really enjoyed about this.

Eventually, somehow, she found herself riding just a bit ahead of Clegane and Arya. She glanced over her shoulder after coming out of a reverie, to see how Arya was faring, only to see that Clegane was watching her, and his eyes were not on the back of her head. He glanced up shamelessly, not caring that he got caught.

When she didn't turn away, or revolt, a dark look came over him, like the time when he had helped her off her horse and grabbed her hips.

She smirked and turned around, her chest warming with a buzz.

Those looks were something else. She straightened her back, making sure her frame was accentuated. She wanted to fuck with him, for keeping her in ropes and then to a fucking tree. Although it messed with her equally, seeing that unconventional, handsome face, the way his facial hair was still thin but growing wild. That look fit him well, and she bet he had a burly chest, covered in hair, to go along with his robust hands.

She nearly shook her head. Clegane exuded vigor like whores exuded sexuality, and it was like honey to her.

A deep sensation of questioning came over her as she wondered what it would be like to have those hands on more than her hips. What the fuck was she doing? She wanted Clegane as a guard. She knew better than to mix desires with that.

And yet, something about the man just pawed at her mind.

Men like him really did a number on her. It didn't help that she knew he had a heart in there somewhere, desperate to see it, to experience what a tenderness from him might be like.

She sighed.

Things felt different between them now. Not dramatically, but it was there.

She wondered if it was for the best or not.