Tyrion looked out of the window of the tower of the hand anxiously, towards where he could see the boat bound for Pentos. He had little over 15 minutes before that ship left the port, and if he was not out of this meeting before then, his father would surely know that they had not sailed for Pentos, but escaped on horseback. The longer he was held up here, the longer his companions had to wait at the flea bottom gate, and despite being a busy area, four people loitering with five horses was bound to gain some attention and even some questions. His father had continued to drone at him about the importance of control over the king, before lecturing him on the importance of impregnating his Stark wife.

With time ticking, he attempted to appear calm and not twitch too much, but he was itching to leap of his chair and make a run for it. Appearing interested in what his father was saying was beyond him, but that was normal, it would have looked suspicious if he had hung of Tywin's every pompous word. The relief he felt at finally being dismissed was immense, and he had to force himself to leave the room at a leisurely pace. Cloaking himself once he had left the vicinity of the hands tower, he took the servants passageway, one he found one night when sneaking off, away from his father's watchful eye, to visit Littlefinger's brothel. Using a network of back alleys, he navigated his way through the half maze, half slum city that made up the poor part of the capital of the seven kingdoms.

Coming across no one but nameless peasants reassured him, as none of these people could be traced and hauled before the king, and after the events of the riot, not many of these paupers would be willing to surrender any information to Joffrey. The worst thing that would happen would be for him to be seen by a king's guard, as even with his hooded cloak, his unfortunate stature made him an easily discernable figure, as much as Sansa's hair and Tully blue eyes made her identifiable. At least Shae could blend in with the capitals other immigrants. Bronn could take care of himself, and a squire like Pod would not be accosted for walking around with trunks of luggage. Pod would however be noticed by the right people, like Lord Varys's spies, and the message would be passed on, that Tyrion Lannister and his little wife Sansa had fled for Pentos.

He heard his name called, and looked up, dread in his heart, only to find Podrick himself walking behind him. He turned to hiss at the squire, "Don't call out my name! Are you slow Pod? We cannot be recognised, or my head will be on a spike next to Eddard Stark! Did you do it Pod? Have you played your part in the plan?"

"I did Ser. The captain is waiting for us now, but I told him that he should travel on time whether we made it or not, as we would catch the next boat if we were unable to make it, due to your duties as master of coin. I paid him a little extra, to ensure he was amenable," Pod informed him.

"Do you know anything about the progress of the others?"

"I don't my Lord. I escorted Lady Sansa to her room but I have not seen her since she left it."

"I should have sent Bronn with her. A lady should not travel through the streets alone, especially not through the flea bottom streets," Tyrion groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. So much could go wrong with this plan. However his worries were seemingly assuaged when he saw the others standing at the side of the gate with half a dozen horses. Half a dozen? He counted again and became aware of another person standing next to lady Sansa. Oh for the love of the seven, this was like babysitting. Did the Stark girl know nothing of subtlety or secrecy? Donning a casual look of nonchalance, he strolled forward, Pod in tow. "Lady Sansa, would you please tell me the meaning of this," he gestured to the young man standing next to her, with overly calm forced politeness.

"I believe, according to lady Sansa, that this young man 'simply must accompany us'," Bronn mocked, earning a scowl from both Sansa and Shae.

"His name is Gendry, he too needs to flee kings landing, and he knows that my sister is alive. He could lead me to her, as he has an idea of what part of the kingdom she might be in. And before you ask Tyrion, I do trust him, I have questioned him on my sister and I know his information could only be gained by listening to her ranting."

Tyrion held his finger out threateningly and opened his mouth to speak. The girl was so naïve and trusting, for all he knew, the man had told her he had known her sister in a previous life of something of similar ridiculousness, and everyone knew Arya Stark was a mouthy little urchin. I don't have time for this shit, he huffed internally. Changing his mind, he stood there for a minute like an idiot, finger poised and mouth hanging open before declaring, "Fine. He can travel with us, but if he betrays us, then Bronn will kill him. Deal?" Problem solved, simple, Tyrion smiled to himself.Both Sansa and Gendry nodded at him in solemn affirmation. "Now everyone get on a bloody horse and let's go. Podrick, your assistance if you will?"

Pod held his hands together and boosted him up onto one of the smaller horses. "I should tell you this now my Lord, that I'm not entirely sure how to do this, this riding a horse thing."

"But you're a squire!" Tyrion despaired. "For the sake of the seven. Tie your horse to my saddle then, we'll have to teach you later, now hurry Pod." They mounted their stolen horses, and lying flat so they could squeeze through a gate meant to be walked through, they slipped through and out into the dusty stretch of field beyond, before spurring their horses on, Bronn in the lead, galloping away from the prison of king's landing. Shae caught Sansa's eye and they both began laughing at the free feeling of galloping away from hell. Tyrion galloped up to where Bronn was leading the group, Pod's horse led behind, and Pod holding on to the saddle for dear life. "We will gallop until the horses are too tired, and then walk on through the night. This is no caravan, and the ride will not take a month, the longer we take, the more chance they will catch up with us," he yelled over the wind.

Grinning like lunatics they spurred their noble steeds on towards the open road.

After about ten minutes, the novelty had worn off. The glamour of a dramatic horseback escape was soon overshadowed by the fact that dust was thrown into their faces with every stride the horses took, and the adrenaline from the speed could not drown out the feeling of buttocks repeatedly slamming a stiff leather saddle for hours on end. Sansa and Shae's moans and groans in protest turned to whimpers and whines as their thighs were rubbed raw by the friction of their saddles.

They were all relieved when they tumbled down from their mounts, deep in some woodland, many miles from kings landing as the sun began to go down. Bronn was roasting some rabbits over the fire for them as they gingerly sat down on logs, assessing the damage. Pod began to get the bedrolls out. "I don't think so Pod. Not unless you wish us to be murdered in our sleep," Tyrion sighed, sucking the last of a wineskin dry. "We rest for an hour then we ride again. What did everyone bring? Clothes I presume? Maybe knives, anything useful?" he asked the group at large.

"Two bags of gold, and I'd be willing to sell that gold necklace Joffrey gave me if we need to," Sansa offered. Tyrion nodded in acknowledgement, before turning to Shae.

"One bag of gold, and two knives. The one on my leg and one I can give to Sansa," she responded.

Tyrion tried to ignore the arousing thought of a knife strapped to his woman's thigh, and quickly turned to Pod, who answered, "A sizable amount of your gold my lord, and a knife to defend myself with. I have one of those axes you favour too."

Bronn spoke before tyrion could even look at him. "I've got enough gold to keep me in whores for about two months, so don't you worry about that. I'm wearing my armour, I've got my bow, two quiver's full, five daggers, a hunting knife and a sword.

Tyrion turned towards Gendry. "I don't suppose you have any gold stashed anywhere boy?"

"One and a half bags, and I've got a sword," Gendry told him defiant towards Tyrion's dispariaging attitude. Shaking the small sack that held his meagre belongings. It jingled with the sound of metal. A sizable sword adorned his belt. Not a greatsword like Ice, but nowhere near as little as Arya's needle, Sansa noted nostalgically.

"Well we are reasonably rich for runaways," Tyrion laughed, rubbing his face tiredly. "They will have noticed by now that we are missing, and I hope the Pentos decoy will be taken as truth, but I still believe that the more space between us and them, the better. We rest for an hour and then continue through the night. We will make camp tomorrow night agreed." A chorus of moans was his answer. "Anyone who believes they will fall asleep should tie themselves to their saddle, the horses should follow each other. I'll ride at the front and take first watch."

After chewing through a few hunks each of fire blackened rabbit, which Bronn protested 'wasn't that bad', when he saw the facial expression Sansa pulled when she tasted it, they saddled up and set off through the wood. Shae trotted her mare up towards where Tyrion was leading, and urged her horse to fall into step with his. "Are you all right my lion?"

"I am. I'm tired and sore, and quickly running out of wine, but you're still here. Although I don't have booze or a bed, or unbruised buttocks for that matter, I have my Shae," he smiled up at her. She smiled back. "And you know how much I love booze, so feel very complimented by that, it is a huge 'I love you'."

She laughed softly. "Do you think we did the right thing?" she asked him, suddenly serious.

"At the moment I am feeling very much that we have done the right thing, but ask me again when we are caught and I'm strung up on a tree by my leg, being beaten like piñata, I might reply differently," Tyrion quipped. "And we haven't had sex in an age! When we find an inn, I will make up for it. I should have bloody taken you on the desk when you offered earlier."

"And have Sansa walk in on us? Seeing and knowing something are different my lion," Shae teased.

"I'm in love with you Shae. I don't even know your last name, and it doesn't matter. I'm not in love with your name. You can't love a name. A name can't love you back. I love you. But please promise me you won't hurt me, because my tiny, bitter little heart can't take much more."

"I won't hurt you, or your heart. I am yours and you are mine," Shae whispered before reaching out for his hand.

"No Shae. I must concentrate on the road, the knife comment earlier was distracting enough. See to Lady Sansa, she is not used to life on the road as we are."

Shae huffed at him, rolling her eyes playfully. "But you must promise me, later."

Tyrion rolled his eyes in return. "Later," he placated her. "Now go."

Shae turned her eyes to Sansa, who was grimacing with every stride that her horse took, and let her own horse fall into step beside her. "How are you holding up my lady?"

"I don't feel like a lady. I feel tired and dirty and seven forbid it sweaty!" Sansa confessed unhappily. "But on the brightside I'm on my way home, and my beloved betrothed Joffrey," Sansa formed sarcastic speech marks with her fingers, "Or exbetrothed now, cannot publicly humiliate me anymore. On the downside, I no longer have any skin on my inner thighs, and my buttocks have become square."

"I know how you feel Lady Sansa. But you are right about one thing. We are free, and you cannot put a price on freedom, even if it has cost us blood and even sweat," Shae laughed in a mock scandalised voice.

"Well then we must keep smiling and prevent tears from joining the list," Sansa returned, a big naïve smile on her face. "It is like a song. Unorthodox and painful, my rescuing knights a squire and a Sellsword and a dwarf, but I am being rescues from Cercei the dragon." The pair of them tittered at that particular description.

"I am very proud of you my lady. You have been very strong today. A leader, taking a stand. You pushed Tyrion to action, and you know how stubborn he can get. You demanded we travel with that raggedy Gendry boy. You are becoming a strong woman."

"But I'm not, Shae, I'm not. I only behaved like that because I was desperate. It was my fear, it made me strong. My sister is the strong one. And my brothers. I am only a daughter of Winterfell, and if I was a strong woman, I would never have endured all that Joffrey put me through. If I was strong I would have pushed him off that walkway, no matter what anyone said to me otherwise. I would have rebelled when he hit me, I…"

"That makes you a smart woman. A weak woman would have given in to the temptation and pushed the little runt king, a weak woman would have tried to run from the unjust punishments thrust upon her, and a woman who wasn't strong would not have begged for mercy for her Father. A weak woman does not heed her head, or any advice, and quickly becomes a dead Woman."

"I don't want to talk about that Shae. I never want to talk about that again. It was my fault, I should have broken off my betrothal and left with him while I still could, but I was selfish, and stupid."

"Selfish, stupid and strong, Sansa. Not the best combination, but you are strong. You have learned from your mistakes and now you are wise. The only one holding you back now is you."

Sansa looked deep in thought for a minute and inclined her head in a sort of sceptical acceptance before groaning. "I cannot wait until we are far enough from kings landing to stay in an inn. I remember having to stay in an inn once, with Father, Arya and Brann, after we got caught in a storm after visiting the Umbers, up at the last hearth, the bloody place was further north than winterfell. My brother and sister were so excited to be sleeping in a new place, however even at a young age, I felt disgusted at the lodging conditions. I will never complain about a straw bed ever again after this." Sansa let out a sigh. "I look back and feel ashamed of my younger self sometimes."

"Everyone has regrets. One day, I will tell you my secret, my biggest regret of all, and it will make being sad at a plain inn silly," Shae sighed. "Anyway," she changed the topic, "Is his knowledge of your sister the only reason you invited that muscly young man along? He is rather handsome Sansa. Are we sure we don't have a little infatuation going on?" She teased in a whisper, glancing to where Gendry rode, looking awkward at the back of the pack.

"Absolutely not Shae! It would not be proper for a lady such as myself to become infatuated with a man I have no intention to marry." Sansa's stuffy words sounded very much rehearsed to Shae.

"From what I have heard, someone was given a rose by a rather dashing heroic knight of the flowers! How scandalous, as she was betrothed to the prince at the time. How was she ever going to intend to marry the handsome knight when her heart and hand were promised to the golden prince of the realm? I don't think that stopped her being a little bit infatuated with the gorgeous Loras Tyrell though, and-" Shae's playful prodding was interrupted by Sansa's furiously desperate blushing and shushing. Shae changed tack. "For the record Sansa, beautiful boys, tend to either appreciate the attention of other beautiful boys, or to be spoiled, pampered little shit's like Joffrey. Unless you develop a liking for the powerful muscular body type, you will end up with a husband who either beats you or likes taking you from behind, up the-"

"Shae!" Sansa squealed in horror, eyes like dishes, at her crude and saucy comment. "How could you assault my innocence with that, that…" She trailed off, at a loss for a descriptive word polite enough to use yet vile enough to describe the filthy comment.

"Oh my Lady! Do not tell me you do not think about sex Sansa, because you do, any fifteen year old girl does. And none of that, 'it is a factor I have considered as a future duty when I am a wife', pigshit you like you spout. There must have been a man at some point, young women your age are easily impressionable, I've been there, whom you have fantasised about, even if it was merely a heated kiss."

Sansa blushed a deep red, at the thought of her daydreaming about the 'not kiss'. Is that what a fantasy was? Sansa blushed harder at the memory of hard, muscular arms and the strong, secure broad shoulder of her 'not a Knight' saviour, that she had been slung over after her rescue. "I am not averse to a muscular sort of man," she mumbled.

"Who is he?" Shae cooed at her persuasively.

"It doesn't matter," Sansa sighed. "I ruined any chance with him when I turned down his offer of escape. I was a coward then too." Sansa's mind darted to the enormous muddied and bloodied, one white kings guard cloak taking up a large amount of space in her bag. It was sentimental foolishness that had made her bring it along with her, but to her, the filthy thing felt as much of a gift as the Rose from the tourney. Sandor had been magnificent too, at that tourney, saving Loras from his brother, the mountain. What did winning matter when you saved people? Sandor Clegane had certainly saved her, and a number of times at that.

"I know who you are talking about," Shae nodded in understanding. "It does surprise me however, that as a girl who has shown a preference for lanky pretty boys, you pick a man with enough muscle to share with three men, and is the ugliest man I may have ever seen," Shae smirked.

"Hark who is talking!" Sansa jerked her head to the front of the pack where Tyrion was riding.

Shae let out a giggle. "You married him!" she squealed.

"Shae! That does not count, I was forced to marry him, and therefore he does not reflect my taste in men at all! And Sandor is not the ugliest man! The other side of his face, while not picturesque, is not entirely unpleasant," Sansa protested, and then preceded to try and shove her off her horse, playfully.

"Maybe you should talk to the lad," Shae changed the subject, avoiding Sansa's pathetic swipes, and again glancing back at Gendry. "He is here because of you, and therefore, as you highborns would put it, your guest. Tyrion resents him being here, and death threats, while necessary in this case, are not the best welcome to a group. Talk with the poor boy, he is clearly uncomfortable."

Sansa looked back to where Gendry rode, watching the rest of the group warily. She tried to turn her mare out of the line, and the horse fought against her noisily before a sharp kick to her sides sent her into an aggravated trot. Sansa winced at the friction on her raw skin. Gendry perked up perceptively at her approach, and Sansa smiled at him in return. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, milady," Gendry reassured her, yet his tone suggested otherwise.

"I'm sorry. It was my fault that I dragged you into my mess, but things will get better. When you gain their trust, they will behave differently towards you. They, unlike me it appears, have learned not to trust other's blindly," she tried to reassure him. "Tell me, why were you and my sister separated? It sounds as if you were good friends."

Gendry hung his head in shame. "We were. But I left her when the brotherhood without banners, who we had been captured by, sold me to that frightful red woman. The red priestess. I was so blinded by her beauty, I didn't realise what she intended to do to me. Arya told me she didn't like her the moment she saw her, and asked me why I did. I told her she didn't understand because she was a girl."

"I think as a girl, Arya understood perfectly what was going on," Sansa sighed sympathetically. Arya's judgement would no doubt not have been tainted by the idiotic incapacitating desire men seemed prone to suffer from.

"No shit," Gendry huffed. "I always forget how smart she is. I often forgot she is a she at all. She irritated me to no end, but now she isn't around, I miss her. I wish I could see her again and say that I am sorry for leaving her, to tell her she was right."

"Oh no! Never tell Arya she's right! It only makes her self-righteous disdain of the world worse, and in turn makes her a much more insufferable being!" Sansa gasped in mock horror. They laughed together sharing the memory of Arya's indignant facial expression. "Gods, the last time I saw her she was ten years old, she will be about thirteen now! If I see her again I will probably hardly know her," Sansa fretted.

"I wouldn't worry. Nothing, even time is strong enough to change that stubborn girl," Gendry quipped.

….

From her seat on Craven, her white stallion, Arya glared at the back of the hounds head. Whatever the fuck he told her, he was still the worst shit in the seven kingdoms. With a face like thunder she contemplated the hound's diabolical behaviour. There was no way he could have known the famer and his daughter would not live through the winter, and now with the famer injured and their silver gone, they had no chance of living through until the end of the summer.

"Are you still sulking, Stark?" he grunted back at her.

She did not dignify his question with a response, and the black expression on her face intensified. The very worst shit!

"You could sulk for a week and it would make no difference to me, wolf bitch. In fact, I enjoy the silence," Clegane chuckled. He adopted a whiny mocking tone, " 'Where are we? Do we have a map?'." He laughed gruffly. "I know where we are Stark. I've been roaming these kingdoms since before you left your father's nutsack."

Arya's hands tightened on the reins, knuckles turning white, before she snapped. "What the seven hells do you know about nutsacks Clegane? Surely it didn't take any balls to steal silver from a withered old farmer and a frail, skinny little girl." She adopted a low grunt and began to mock him, "I'm not a thief, man's gotta have a code,'" She took a big breath before raising her voice to a shout. "You don't even have the bollocks to stick to your own bloody code! You are just a murdering! Thieving! Shit!" She ended her tirade screeching those three titles at him. She slowly sat back in her saddle. There was no noise other than the clopping of hooves and her own ragged breathing.

The silence stretched.

A feeling of awkwardness stole over Arya as the sky darkened.

Some time later, getting down from his mount, the Hound spread his bedroll and flopped down, armor clanking, turning away from her, making it clear they were making camp. He didn't say another word.