Loki: Storm of Swords

Chapter 78 - The Young Wolf vs the Old Lion

The pits beneath the Red Keep were deep and dark and treacherous. But Ragna trusted her excellent memory and sense of direction to get her to where she wanted to go and back. She moved quicker now that she had parted ways with the Brotherhood Without Banners. Her hood was pulled up over her face, and she held her torch out in front of her. Her expression was grim, and her other hand gripped the dagger upon her hip. The prisoners that resided beneath the Red Keep were all survivors of the rebels under the Lannisters. They were old and grey now and weak and lanky. Some of them attempted to reach out for her, but Ragna snarled, like the wolf she was. They would cower from her in fear. There was something about her eyes and the animalistic growl that emitted from her throat that terrified them. Her torch was the only real light in that place and she kept going on and on and on... She knew he was deep beneath the keep, probably the last metaphorical nail in his coffin. Ragna knew that when he finally died, it would be several days before anybody actually noticed his corpse. She rounded a corner and heard the sound of chains moving in the darkness. Her head tilted and she turned slightly. A figure was huddled in a nook, legs pulled up and arms around his knees. Ragna approached and stuck the torch in the ground. She squatted so that she would be on level with the man. "Raise your head and look at me," she ordered. The man finally did as she told him, lifting his foggy blue eyes to study her. She leaned forward and asked, "Do you know who I am?"

"You are a little girl, who was either brave or stupid enough to enter the pits beneath the Red Keep," he answered in a gravelly voice. Ragna grinned as she suddenly produced a skin of water. 

"I am more than brave, ser, I am cunning. And I could also be merciful. Which would you prefer?" she posed, shaking the water skin. The man was clearly excited at the prospect of drinking water. He leaned forward the chains rattled as he reached out for it. However, Ragna pulled the skin back, just out of his reach. "Uh huh! Where's the fun in making it easy for you? Now, who am I?" Ragna asked. The man looked at her; his greying hair falling across his wrinkled forehead, his scraggly beard hanging off his chin. He squinted a little, a haunted smile gracing his face.

"You speak like him... you have his eyes... you taunt me like him... you're his, aren't you?" the man said. Ragna chuckled as she popped open the cap and swished the water again. 

"Say his name," she ordered. The man resisted and Ragna stood up, holding the water skin over his head. She flicked it quickly and a few drops landed in the dirt as his feet. He looked up at her.

"Loki Frostborn," he whispered hoarsely. 

"That's right! And what's your name?" Ragna queried as she held the water skin closer to him. His eyes narrowed and he leaned back.

"I'm not playing your game," he hissed in response and Ragna shrugged.

"Suit yourself," she commented. She raised the water skin to her lips and took a swig. She gargled the water, swirled it around and then swallowed it. That was before she turned the water skin so that its contents began to spill to the dry ground slowly. His eyes widened, but his mouth crimped up as he did his best not to give in to her demands. A trail of water dripped from the corner of her mouth and lingered on her chin. Ragna's tongue went out and touched her lips. 

"Wait," he finally said, but his voice was still calm.

"Ah! Round two?" she queried.

"Tywin. Tywin Lannister," he rasped. Ragna tilted her head to one side as she considered fulfilling her end of the bargain.

"Oh, alright," she said, handing him the water skin. Tywin gulped and gulped and gulped and finished the water in less than twenty seconds. Ragna sat down about two feet away from him, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees. "Now that you're no longer parched, I'm going to ask you some questions..."