Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, worlds, or anything therein. They belong to George R. R. Martin, and aspects of the show belong to David Benioff and D.B. Weiss
Chapter 1
They had made it through the gates of the city. Now they needed to get into the Red Keep. Sandor and Arya walked in step, pushing panicked civilians out of their way. The anger had steeled both of them against the rising anxiety of the city. They were of a single mind: Revenge.
As the siege began, the two of them were far enough in the city to avoid the troops. They were far enough from the city walls that they needn't worry about dragon fire upon the scorpions. The sounds were deafening, both of them covering their ears as Drogon's screech rang overhead. Then in the midst of the bombardment of explosions and screams, a lull came over the whole of King's Landing.
"What in Seven Hells?" Arya asked as she turned her attention to the silence. Sandor pulled her along, knowing that hesitation could mean the difference between life and death.
"Doesn't matter. Siege or Surrender, we do not stop." Sandor growled. He was so close to his life's goal that he was not about to hesitate now. Arya came quickly behind as they continued their journey through the dark alleyways towards the Red Keep. The people began begging for the city bells to toll.
Arya led them through the sewers and forgotten passageways she had used to escape capture so many years ago. Her memory served her well, and she was able to successfully navigate them into the corridors of the Keep. Sandor was impressed, he had never known of these passages, and he had been lived in the Red Keep for years as Joffery's sworn shield.
"No wonder no one ever found you," he snorted as they made their way up a set of servant's stairs. The city bells began chiming throughout the city. Sandor and Arya looked at each other and nodded knowingly at the other. Siege or surrender, we do not stop.
The inside of the keep seemed abandoned. No servants, no highborn lords or ladies, no one. Every guard was either fighting in the streets or surrounding Cersei. It was during this observation that the ground shook and the tolling bells began to quiet as the heightened pitch of shrieking people flooded the air.
Arya and Sandor looked out a nearby window and saw the dragon queen burning the surrendered city to the ground. Neither seemed shocked by this. She was a Targaryen, and the Mad King's daughter. Arya pushed away from the view of carnage and began walking on. Sandor watched in horrific awe as buildings and towers began to crumble under the dragon's fire.
The Keep began to shake and Sandor knew that the dragon queen would strike here soon. They made their way across the mapped floor of Cersei's courtyard. Sandor stopped and looked at the crumbling castle around them.
"Go home, girl." Sandor told Arya. "The fire will get her. Or one of the Dothraki. Or maybe that dragon will eat her. It doesn't matter. She's dead, and you'll be too if you don't get out of here." He knew it was true, and he knew he would not escape and fulfill his mission. He had to give her that best chance.
"I'm going to kill her!" Arya strode passed him, but he caught her by the arm. The fury was strong in her veins, but he had to let her know the stakes of this part of the game.
"You think you want revenge a long time? I've been after it all my life. It's all I care about." Sandor told her as she tried to pull away and head through the door towards the serpentine stairs. He yanked at her arm. "Look at me. Look at me! You want to be like me?"
She stared into his eyes, and she saw herself if she chose this road. Death. His hand held her head as they stared at each other. She saw the anger, the hate, the visceral wildness. And she saw the sadness, the regret, the pain of loss, and love. As she contemplated these things, Sandor left her standing and made his way to the door.
"Sandor!" Arya called to him. He looked back with those fated eyes. "Thank you."
A weight lifted off of her shoulders as she decided her fate. He nodded and gave her the faintest of smiles. He paused for a moment, hesitating on what final message to give. He knew if it was his last chance, he had to say it.
"Tell the Little Bird, your pretty sister," he paused and sighed deeply. "I've loved her from the moment I saw her."
With that final word, Sandor began making his way to the doorway. His footsteps were stopped, however, by the demanding voice of Arya Stark.
"You have a choice too!" Her voice rang out, echoing through the hall, over the sounds of death and dying on the streets below. Sandor froze as her words reverberated off the walls and into his soul.
He had never thought of his revenge against Gregor as a choice. It was something he always believed that he must do. Killing his hateful brother was the only ending he saw for his life. He would kill Gregor or be killed by Gregor in the process. That's how fate and destiny work, isn't it? Sandor did not know.
"Tell her yourself. Come back with me. You said it yourself, they're already dead. You don't have to be this person, Sandor, you are better than this." Arya pleaded with him, trying to save him as he had saved her. She watched as his back tensed, and she waited with bated breath the see what he chose.
"Fuck destiny." Sandor turned and made his way back to Arya. She buried her smile in his shoulder as they embraced.
"Fuck destiny," she repeated softly. "Now let's get out of here, before the walls fall down on us. Sandor nodded and Arya led them back through the Red Keep the way they had came.
The twists and turns mingled with the tremors in the stones around them were disorienting to Sandor. Arya, however, seemed less perturbed. On their way, Arya halted at the sight of a man in their way. Both Arya and Sandor drew their swords.
"Calm down, it's me," came the voice of Jaime Lannister. He was bleeding and holding his sides.
"Where the Seven Hells did you come from?" Sandor demanded.
"No time to explain," he groaned. He was dying and he knew it. "Follow the passages down as far as they'll go. You'll find a boat. Take it."
"What about you?" Arya asked as Jaime stumbled passed them.
"Cersei and I came into this world together. It's only fitting that we leave it together, too." He pulled out a dagger from his belt. Apparently, Arya was not the only one with plans for the queen. "Hurry! Go now if you want to survive!"
"Thank you." Arya called as she ad Sandor hastened down the pathway, which he had just came up.
"That fucker may have just saved our skins." Sandor mused as they hurried as fast as their feet could take them. They passed dragon skulls of various shapes and sizes. Arya had remembered visiting them when her father was Hand and Robert was King. She, also, remembered the passage to the sea.
Just as they passed the last threshold, a deep rumble came from overhead. As the rocks began to crumble and fall above them, Sandor grabbed Arya and pulled her away from the avalanche of stone. He shielded her tiny form with his own large body. Smaller stones crashed over them, causing instant bruises to appear. The air was thick with dust and neither could see for a long while.
"Are you alright?" Sandor coughed as he cleared the rubble from around them. Arya gasped for air and coughed out dust as she rolled onto her hands and knees. Sandor clapped a hand on her back to help knock her lungs clear. Carefully, they both stood and assessed themselves for injures.
"I'm alright?" Arya said as she began climbing the rubble. "Are you?"
"Nothing I haven't lived through before." Sandor answered. "Better than falling onto the rocks."
Arya gave a faint smile.
"I promise I won't rob you this time."
The air cleared as they finally found the opening to the sea. The skewered body of Euron Greyjoy lay on the rocks amidst a pool of pool. Arya looked around and found the boat Jaime had mentioned and called Sandor over. They launched it into the bay and rowed it out passed the burning Iron Fleet. As they rowed farther away, they could see the Red Keep crumbling to the ground as blazes of dragon fire billowed towards the sky.
"They're gone." Arya said, her expression unreadable. Sandor turned away from the carnage. He nodded his head and sighed with both a reluctance to release his grudge and a relief that the grudge was finally over.
"Aye, that it is."