Royal Salvation [Game of Thrones]

Chapter III - The Black Dragon

Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent.
Hide in plain sight, be one with the crowd.
Never compromise the Brotherhood.

Calyx Blackfyre POV

Gold burdened worn leather, the weight tugging at fatigued fabric, the Lannister encampment had proved fruitful, while blood plagued Calyx's dagger.

"Calyx, there's movement North." Calculating eyes watched torches of blazing fury, draw nearer, and a body barrelling toward the company.

"Stay here." Sticks buckled beneath silent feet, even breaths struggling to remain.

The body was small, easily concealed amongst the foliage, dirtied locks indistinguishable of colour. A larger figure approached, a disfigured face carrying conniving intent.

Calyx reached her first, muscles straining significantly as, she dragged her from sight, a hand planted firmly over her mouth, "Quiet girl, you have a lot of people after you, I can help you, but only if you'll let me."

The girl nodded hesitantly, her body growing still, placid in her actions, "Alright, I'm going to remove my hand, and we're going to run, agreed?"

She's fucking fierce, I'll give her that.

The girl nodded rapidly, itching to flee, "Good, stay close." Both broke out into a sprint scaling obstacles effortlessly, Calyx threw Arya into the concealment of a cave, orange embers warming the cave fractionally.

"Who are you?" The girls voice was harsh, demanding, coaxing a chuckle from Calyx's cloaked figure,

"Gods your demanding, I save your life and before a thank you, you make commands, I shouldn't have assumed much else, high born ladies are not know for their kindness toward common folk, that is my mistake, my Lady." Arya scoffed her eyes darting toward the three silent figures observing cautiously,

"I'm not a Lady, or a highborn!" The eldest of the three observers spoke his voice low, humorous,

"She's a Stark, Cal, Dark hair, dark eyes, northern voice, Ned Stark's daughter I'd guess." Arya glared heatedly at the observer,

"Is he right, my Lady?" Her gaze shifted quickly to Calyx, still watching, waiting to steal a gaze at her face,

"I'm Arya Stark, my brother is Robb Stark, he'll pay you, if you take me to him-," Her bargain was interrupted by Calyx's humoured chuckle,

"We have no need for gold, my Lady, the Lannister soldiers provided enough of that." Arya's eyes were conquered by fear,

"Your Lannister soldiers?" The youngest of the attentive group, released a juvenile laugh, his childish manner infuriating, before Calyx interrupted his crusade of humour,

I believe I should be insulted, by that assumption.

"Gods no, we obey no house, Lannisters, Baratheons, Tyrell's, there all irrelevant, we follow the Order... to an extent." Arya's brows creased with avid confusion,

"What do you mean, to an extent?" The remaining of the silent three spoke, his voice mature despite the youth lingering on his dimly lit face,

"The Order isn't a religion, there is no blind faith, nor loyalty, we swear our oaths, we train, but other than that we live by our words and work by our own means." Arya nodded silently her gaze tearing from the man's fierce look,

"Who are you, and where do you come from?" Calyx removed her hood finally, the fabric creasing in her hold as it rolled for comfort.

"My name is Calyx Blackfyre, the old looking fucker is Orys Celtigar, the childish dick is Alexander Ashwood and the silent cunt is Raedan Strong, your a highborn, my Lady, I'll assume you know where our houses reside." Arya huffed in agitation,

"Stop calling me, my Lady." Calyx chuckled, lying amongst the cave floor, her cloak elevating her head,

"As my Lady commands. We'll get you back to your family little lady, don't you worry, but for now sleep, we ride at dawn." Reluctantly Arya settled amongst the isolated leaves and twigs, the dull embers warming her hands slightly, as she trembled against the cold, a cloak was draped over her, and her eyes found the figure of Alexander a shy smile plastered across his face,

"I don't think your brother, would take to kindly to you dying before we return you, get some sleep Arya Stark."

~~~~~~~~~~

"The little lady is angry Calyx." Arya stood her brows furrowed as she clutched a boulder intent on bludgeoning Calyx.

She's confused, rightfully so.

"How can you tell, Raedan?" Calyx's voice held humour, yet all fours eyes remained screwed shut,

"She uses her hands when she's angry, we saw that last night, while she clawed at your hands as you threw her in here, and currently she holds a boulder over her head." Arya remained silent, unmoving,

"What do you reckon chances of survival are?" Raedan grumbled to himself, before Orys' gruff voice pierced through the silence,

"I'd say fifty, fifty, the rocks sufficiently heavy, and the little lady could be strong enough, it would really depend on her dedication to the kill." A young voice chimed in, edging hysterics,

"I'd give you seventy percent chance, Commander, she doesn't seem convinced enough to kill you." Readan's impatient voice emanated,

"Well go on little lady, I'll warn you tho, if she dies we'll sever your hands and return you to your brother a cripple, but if she lives, she'll break both of your legs and you'll spend the rest of the trip bound and gagged." Alexander interrupted Raedan's monologue, all eyes still closed, to the inevitable blinding to be conveyed by the harsh rays of light creeping inside the cave.

"She'd be a cripple either way, so what's the fucking difference." Orys opened his left eye blinking away remnants of sleep,

Children, I work with fucking children.

"Calyx being dead is the difference you dumb cunt." A manic laugh echoed redundantly through the stone walls, Calyx's voice interrupting the trio.

"Put the rock down little lady, we wouldn't want you hurting yourself." Arya scowled, throwing the rock from the cave, before collapsing with a huff. The four rousing from their sleeping states to assume preparations to ride.

"Come Arya, you'll ride with me." The sound of her name from Calyx's mouth sounded foreign, as the syllables spewed from her tongue for the first time.

"Why?" Calyx's eyes shifted toward the three men following dutifully,

"Orys is a large man Arya, and his saddle barely fits himself, there wouldn't be room for you, despite how small you are. Raedan, is the first to engage with a threat, he's more suited to duelling on horseback, and we can't afford you getting hurt. And Alexander, he is young and rather inexperienced, I don't trust him alone, not to fall from his horse, let alone ride well enough for the pair of you." Calyx hoisted Arya onto her black stallion, effortlessly as Arya stared at her curious,

"How old are you, Calyx, and where are we going?" The elder girl chuckled mounting her stallion, sitting confidently behind the Stark girl,

One day, her questions are going to get her killed.

"Older than you, Lady Stark, older than you."