Game of Thrones: Short stories.

The Brethren - Part 2 - Beric x Reader

Beric and Thoros looked at one another and then back at the woman. She stood tall and straight, her strong form covered in a large coat of furs under which lay a layer of what looked like the finest and softest leather. Her hair was dark, the length braided neatly, yet the sides and back of her head appeared to be shaved close, so close that the skin of her skull could be seen.

Neither Beric nor Thoros could argue that whoever she was, she held herself with royal bearing and dignity. But it was her beauty that the two men couldn't fail to notice, and the fact that her face appeared to be painted with some kind of blue pigment, the design similar to waves crashing on a beach, made her stand out all the more.

"Well? Have the gods taken your tongues? Or is it just that you have never seen a real queen before? The only reason anyone dares venture up into these mountains to find the Brethren is because they are looking for something to belong to. A home. And even though you two do appear like the type, I have a feeling that you are not here to join us." The queen said, as she walked right up to the pair. Her eyes studying the two trespassers.

"We have come to find you in hopes that we can persuade you to join us, and fight." Beric began to explain. The lord growling slightly as one of the large men behind him pushed him back down to his knees.

"Ya'll address the Queen (Y/n) properly, interloper." The man hissed, as he pushed Beric further down.

"Gurak. I cannot get the information I require if he has a mouth full of dirt. Now get him back up." The queen ordered, as the man roughly pulled Beric back to his feet.

"Your Majesty. We have been sent on an urgent mission to find you. The Lord Commander of the Night Watch has asked for your assistance with a war. We face a foe that if not stopped, will destroy the world as we know it. They will not stop if we are defeated. They will destroy everything that you and your people hold dear. They will show no mercy." Thoros said, hoping that the woman in front of them had more sense than the men that held them.

"Surly nothing would be foolish enough to step foot in my mountains? If a crow has sent you, it sounds to me like the problem is with all those that live south of the wall. Are the Seven Kingdoms that weak that they would come to us? People that they have treated with nothing but contempt. And even if this foe of yours does come, we are the Brethren, and we fall to no army. We would all rather die on our feet, than live on our knees. Now, be on your way, and just be grateful that I think that you have both lost your minds. For if a didn't, I would give you both to Dalf there. He's always hungry for fresh meat." The queen scoffed, pointing to the large man that still appeared more ursine than human, before turning to leave.

"Even the Brethren will fall if you do not fight with us. The Night King knows no mercy, no pity. You will all be slaughtered, man, woman, and child, and he will turn your dead into his followers. Brother will kill brother, parents will kill their own children, and they will not shed a tear. We are stronger together. It is the only way." Beric called out, as he struggled against the tight grip of the man holding him.

"The Night King?" The queen asked, as she turned back to look at Beric.

"The Night King and his White Walkers are myth, legend. They are things that children tell one another about around the fire. Stories intended to scare. Now you are asking me to believe that this legend and his army have left the Lands of Always Winter, and have come to destroy the world?" The queen continued, as she walked up to stand face to face with Beric.

"Tha Night King and his army are no myth. And if you know tha stories, then you will know that what we have told you is true. Please, my lady. Please hear us out." Beric beseeched, as the queen suddenly seemed lost in her thoughts.

"What are your names?" The queen asked, as she indicated for her men to move away.

"I am Beric Dondarrion, and this if Thoros of Myr." Beric said, he and Thoros rubbing their wrists as the men released them from their binds.

"Dondarrion. Beric Dondarrion." The queen mussed, as if trying to remember the name.

"You are the Lord of Blackhaven in the Dornish Marches are you not? I know of you. Some of my people come from your homeland. And you, you are Thoros of Myr, in Essos. The Red Priest? We have a number of people who made the journey from the Free Cities, also. A number that may have fought by your side." The queen told the two men, before turning to look further into the settlement.

"I want you to come with me. I want you both to see my people. I want you to see what you are asking of me" The queen said as she walked towards the crowd of simple buildings with Beric and Thoros in tow.

The two friends couldn't help but stare, the Brethren were certainly not what they had expected. As they followed the queen it was obvious that her people were from every corner of the known world. There were not just Andals, but there were Ghiscari, people of the Mountain Clans, Summer Islanders, and even Dothraki. All of whom bowed respectfully as the monarch passed by.

"Who are all these people?" Beric asked, as he looked around the large settlement.

"They are the Brethren. They are the disowned, the dishonoured, the displaced. They are the forgotten sons of forgotten sons. Unwanted daughters, and bastards of every kind. They come to me seeking a purpose, a new life, a family. And that is what I give them. Each member of the Brethren serves a purpose, and we rely on one another for our continued survival and wellbeing. No one is turned away that asks for my help, and as long as they do not break our laws, all can remain here." The queen explained, as she continued to show Beric and Thoros around her kingdom.

"All those that cannot already fight are taught to fight. Not a man or woman here does not know how to wield a weapon of some kind, and all will give their lives for the good of the others; this is why we have stayed safe for so long, and why we will remain safe." The queen continued, as the three drew up to the largest building around, the doors opening to reveal a huge hall with a simple wooden throne at the far end.

"So you are telling us that you take in some of the worst, yet they only do good?" Thoros asked, as he watched the lady take her seat.

"I never said that. But anyone that dares commit a crime here, anyone that dares hurt another Brethren, is punished with banishment, and as we are the last, and only hope for many of these people, banishment from here is tantamount to death. But there are always those that flout the rules, and those people have been sent for the lonely walk into the mountains, never to return." The queen said sadly, as she lamented the lose of even those few.

"But what about you? What are you?" Beric asked, as he looked at the men and women that now filled the room, each one with the same blue pigment on their skin as their queen.

"We here are the children of the original Ironborns. Every man and woman whose skin is graced with the blue marks, can trace their roots back to the settlement of these mountains. My ancestor was their leader, and the men and women that followed him were the forebears of the people that follow me now. We wear the blue to signify the seas that our predecessors sailed. Seas that we have never seen, but still feel called by. So, now you know who and what we are, why don't you really try to persuade me as to why I should let my people die for you?" The queen told Beric and Thoros, leaning back in her throne as she waited for a suitable answer.