The Queen of Flames (Sequel to 'The Demon of Winterfell') (On Hold)

Chapter Three: The Dead

In the Riverlands, Sandor Clegane was with the Brotherhood Without Banners. His hair, while usually long, was an untamed mess. As was the beard that was on his face. Snow blew around the cluster of men. "Bad night to be outdoors," Thoros of Myr was saying.

"You've got real powerful magic to figure that out," Sandor said roughly in response. "Did the Lord of Light whisper that in your ear? 'It's snowing, Thoros. It's windy. It's gonna be a cold night.'"

"You're a grouchy old bear, aren't you, Clegane? You want some rum?" Thoros offered, holding a skin out.

"Don't like that shit," Sandor replied. "It's too sweet."

"Why are you always in such a foul mood?"

Sandor thought back to a question that a lovely Stark girl had asked him. 'Why are you always so hateful?'

"Experience," he said in response.

Many surrounding Sandor were happy to spot a cabin not far from them.

Sandor recognized the cabin. He'd once spent a night there with Arya Stark, and robbed the man and daughter who owned it the next morning.

"This seems like a good place to spend the night," Beric Dondarrion commented.

"These people don't want us here," Sandor stated.

"Seems deserted to me. No livestock. No smoke coming from the chimney."

Beric nodded to himself, leading the party nearer to the cabin. Sandor followed reluctantly, looking around at the all too familiar cabin. "I don't like the look of it," he said.

Thoros rolled his eyes, tying up his horse and looking to Sandor. "For a big, hard man," he said, "you scare easy."

"I'll tell you what doesn't scare me," Sandor snapped, "bald cocksuckers like you. You think you're fooling anyone with that top knot? Bald cunt."

Thoros only chuckled. "Come on," he encouraged. "Maybe they've got some ale hidden away."

Sandor shook his head, thinking back to the old inhabitants of the cabin. "They don't," he said.

Nonetheless, the Brotherhood gathered into the cabin. Wind whistled through the cracks, but if they lit a fire, it wouldn't be quite as cold as the outdoors. "See if there's a larder," one of the men stated. "They always leave something behind."

The men began making themselves comfortable, looking around the cabin. But when Sandor stepped in, the first thing he saw was two skeletons. The man and his daughter, together on the bed, the little girl across his lap. There was a knife at their side, blood still dried on it. Beric followed him, closing the door. He looked at the skeletons, then at Sandor. "How do you think it ended for them?" he asked.

"With death," Sandor said.

"Girl died in her father's arms. Both of them covered in blood and a knife at their feet. I'd say they were starving. And rather than let his little girl suffer, he ended it for both of them."

"Doesn't matter now."

"No, doesn't matter now."

But it did, and Sandor knew it. He had been the reason they had no money to buy food. To survive. He thought of Arya Stark, shouting at him as he took their money, and he wondered where the girl was now.

Sandor and Beric both sat, and Sandor tore into some of his food. "I've known you a long time, Dondarrion," he stated.

"Aye," Beric said. "I think the first time we met was at that tournament."

"And I always thought you were dull as dirt. You're not bad. I don't hate you. Don't like you, but you're not bad."

"Thank you, Clegane. That warms the heart."

Sandor continued, still staring at the bones. "But there's nothing special about you."

"You're right about that," Beric nodded.

"So why does the Lord of Light keep bringing you back? I've met better men than you, and they've been hanged from crossbeams, or beheaded, or just shat themselves to death in a field somewhere. None of them came back. So, why you?"

"You think I don't ask myself that? Every hour of every day? Why am I here? What am I supposed to do? What does the Lord see in me?"

"And?" Sandor pressed.

"I don't know," Beric replied. "I don't understand our Lord. Neither did your little Stark girl, Emmelyne."

"Your lord. Not mine."

"I don't know what He wants from me. I only know that He wants me alive."

"If he's so all-powerful, why doesn't he just tell you what the fuck he wants?"

Beric did not answer.

Thoros looked at the pair from his place, where he had managed to start a fire. "Clegane," he said. "Come over here."

Sandor looked at the flames anxiously, remembering a time from when he was a child. A time when his brother had forced his face into the fire. "Don't worry," Thoros encouraged. "The fire won't bite. I want to show you something."

"It's my fucking luck I end up with a band of fire worshippers," Sandor stated.

"Aye," Beric said. "Almost seems like divine justice."

"There is no divine justice, you dumb cunt. If there was, you'd be dead... and that girl would be alive."

"You didn't seem so upset about fire worship when you were with the Stark girl," Beric reminded.

"She's different," was the stiff response.

Sandor stood, moving toward the fire. "What do you want?" he demanded.

Thoros glanced up at him. "Look into the flames," he instructed.

"I don't want to look in the damn flames."

"You saw me bring him back from the dead after you cut him down. Don't you want to know what gave me the power?"

"I keep asking and no one wants to tell me."

Thoros chuckled at that. "We can't tell you," he said. "Only the fire can tell you."

Sandor hesitated, stepping closer and looking into the glowing red embers. "What do you see?" Thoros asked.

"Logs burning," Sandor stated.

"Keep looking."

He moved slightly closer, continuing to stare. "What do you see?" Thoros repeated.

Sandor shook his head slowly, his face shifting into one of confusion. "Ice," he said. "A wall of ice. The Wall."

"What else?"

"It's where the Wall meets the sea. There's a castle there."

The fire popped, sending sparks into the sky. Sandor jumped slightly, but still looked. "There's a mountain," he continued. "Looks like an arrowhead. The dead are marching past. Thousands of them."

Beric moved to his side. "Do you believe me now, Clegane?" he asked. "Do you believe we're here for a reason?"

Sandor could only nod weakly, a look of shock and confusion on his face.