Private Tales The Starling and the Bear

[Lynus Anireth]

​

It'd taken him the entire night, but he'd tracked them. The young lad who should have been keeping watch was curled like a babe against a root, slack-jawed and useless. It made him grin wolfishly, knowing how easy this was going to be.

The girl was apart from the others, kneeling at the stream. Perfect. Like a lamb wandered too far from the flock. He eased through the trees, breath slow, boots soft on the moss until he was standing just behind her.

Just a dream?

“Aren’t you just?…” Bannan drawled, the words dripping with mockery as his reflection joined hers in the water.

His hand snapped out to cover her mouth before she could let out a sound, his other locking around her waist and dragging her back against his chest. She was light in his arms, and he hauled her up against his chest as easy as a sack of grain.

“Don’t fight now, girl. You’ve caused enough trouble as is,” he muttered into her ear, his lips curling in a grin.

The lad back at camp snored faintly, but nothing else stirred. They’d never hear a thing until he was gone with her, bound and gagged before they even blinked awake. His King would be pleased, he could already picture the smug look on the old bastard’s face when he dragged her back, knowing the Prince would follow.

 

[Isla]

Aren't you just...

"Huh-" Isla saw the reflection only a fraction of a second before a hand was wrapped around her mouth, another around her waist. She didn't even have time to scream. She was yanked backward with brutal force. A whimper caught in her throat, swallowed by the stranger's palm as the world tilted and spun. The edge of the stream blurred as her eyes filled with tears.

She kicked and kicked, but it was useless. He was strong, too strong for her when she barely had the strength to squirm against the arm locked around her waist like an iron shackle.

No. Gods! No- no, please!

Her heart hammered against her ribs, wild and erratic like a trapped bird. Her mind flashed to Lynus- to Brett, to Arryn. To the soft bedroll under the willow tree. To their child, still too small to feel, but just as real in her heart. Was she really going to be dragged back into the darkness? Into chains too tight for her now that she had a taste of freedom? Fight! You have to fight! You have to-

Isla thrashed, but his grip didn't loosen. She could see the water rippling in front of her, taunting, reflecting her terrified expression. His lips were at her ear when she spoke, hot breath sticky against her skin, smug and triumphant.

"Lynus!" Her words came as nothing more than a muffled cry. Tears stung her eyes. She tried to scream his name, but nothing came except the taste of Bannan's filthy hand as she tried to bite him. Tried to dig her nails into his flesh, to peel him from her face, trying to reach for anything as she begged her friends and family to wake. But the ground was damp and slick, she couldn't catch purchase of any of it as he began hauling her away from the stream's edge and from Lynus, Arryn, and Brett.

The thought of little Brett snoring by the fire, of Arryn asleep with one hand always on the hilt of his sword, of Lynus snuggled up with Duke...it was her only thread of hope. She closed her eyes and prayed to the gods who had never listened, begged them to let one them wake to the sound of Bannan snapping a twig beneath them...

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Bannan’s breath rasped as he dragged her through the trees, every step muffled but heavy with intent. His grip tightened around her, every thrash of hers answered with a squeeze meant to force the air from her lungs. His grin only widened when she bit and scratched at him.

“Mmm,” he growled low, words hot and slick against her ear, “darlin’, now you’re talking my language. All claws and teeth.” A dark chuckle rolled out of him, strained with the effort of keeping her thrashing limbs under control. “We could have us a good time, you and me.”

He moved quick, quiet as he could, each footfall placed with care despite the writhing girl in his arms.
As they neared his, he bent his head, his lips brushing against her as he hissed into her ear..

“I’m going to take my hand from your mouth,” he murmured. “But if you make a single sound, just one..” his teeth grit, “I cut your throat. Then I go back there, and I cut your Prince’s throat, then the Captain’s, and then that snoring little lad. And I’d lose no fucking sleep over it. Understand?”

He didn’t wait for her nod. If she was stupid enough to risk her life and the lives of the others, that was on her.

At the horse’s side he shifted her, setting her boots to the ground but keeping her back pinned tight to his chest, his arm banded across her ribs. His free hand slid down to a pouch at his hip. From it, he pulled a rag.

“Good girl,” he muttered, almost tender if not for the venom in it. He drew his hand from her mouth at last, swift as a viper, immediately pressing the cloth toward her lips. His grip didn’t falter, ready to snap her back against him if she so much as sucked in a breath too deep.

"You can ride with me, or I can throw you over the horse like a sack of grain. Your choice, sweetheart."

 

[Isla]

Bannan's words were certainly not lost on Isla. She understood exactly what he meant to do to her. Every vile syllable slithered into her ears like poison, and though his voice was kept low, laced with mockery, Isla heard the clear threat in his innuendos. Her stomach turned, though not just from the sickness that had been a close companion to her for weeks, but from the sheer horrors of what might come next if she made the wrong move.

Don't fight him. Don't scream. Don't cry too loud.

The voice in her head, she knew it too well. She'd heard those words before. At a different time. From a different name. Held by different hands. But the same darkness.

Tears spilled freely now, hot trails down her cheeks as her shoulders shook with her silent sobs. Her chest ached from holding back the screams that clawed to get out. But Isla didn't dare open her mouth- not until he made her.

Understand?

She nodded, though he hadn't waited to see it. She didn't care. The gesture wasn't for him- it was for the part of her trying to stay alive. For the child inside her, who hadn't chosen the world of war and monsters like Bannan. For Lynus who would never forgive himself if something happened to Isla. For Brett and Arryn, who would be slaughtered in their sleep without even a chance to draw their blades.

Isla prayed for someone to wake up, to notice she was gone. Even for Duke to whine, to nudge Lynus like he did with his snout to wake him up. She prayed to the gods for that dog's ears to twitch. For him to sniff the air. For him to just bark.

When she looked back, a rag was pressed to her mouth. She parted her lips. Not because she wanted to, but because it was necessary. She gagged as the cloth was shoved in her mouth, bile climbing up the back of her throat, sharp and acidic. Her eyes squeezed shut, forcing it down.

When he whispered again, about how she could ride with him or be slung over like a sack of grain, she nodded to the horse. Wordless. Hollow. She would not give him the satisfaction of a struggle. She would not lose her child to this filth. And someone- someone out there- would answer her prayers.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Bannan’s grin was sharp as a wolf’s, his teeth flashing as Isla choked against the gag. He hauled her up onto the horse with rough efficiency, and was just about to swing into the saddle when the first sound came.

A bark. And another.

Bannan’s head snapped up, sneer twisting his face as Duke’s alarm broke through the quiet. Then voices followed, shouts that rattled through the trees.

“Miss Isla!!...!!”
“ISLA?!!”
“Lynus! Duke has her, this way!”

“Fucking dog,” Bannan spat under his breath. His hand shot to his saddle, yanking his crossbow free with practiced ease. A bolt clicked into place, the string taut as death itself. He turned his head, one cold eye cutting toward Isla.

“Stay put, girl. Remember my fucking warning,” he snarled, raising the weapon toward the trees.

Another bark. Louder this time, closer. The boy came next, running headlong through the brush, desperate, foolish.

“She’s here! It’s Bannan! Bannan has her, she—”

“BRETT!!”

The crossbow sang.

The bolt hissed through the air toward the boy, and in the same heartbeat Arryn was there, shoving Brett out of its path, his body twisting just as the iron punched into his chest with a sickening crack.

“ARRYN!!!” Brett's scream tore from his throat, cracking his voice.

Arryn stumbled forward, breath caught between his teeth as fire seared through his chest. Brett caught him before he hit the earth, his small hands frantic against the Captain’s weight.

“Get… back to camp…” Arryn rasped, forcing the words past the pain. He shoved weakly at Brett’s chest when the boy shook his head, tears already streaming. “Get the horses. Now.” His voice broke, every breath costing him more than he could afford. “Go!”

Brett did as he was told, and ran just as Lynus burst into the clearing, sword gleaming, eyes wide as they took in the horror: Isla bound on the horse, Bannan standing smug with his weapon drawn, and Arryn struggling on the ground. Fear slammed into him, ice down his spine, hotter than fire in his veins.

Bannan’s voice sliced through it all.

“I told your father I’d do whatever it takes to get you back home, Prince. I knew this rat would commit treason to help you. Little point in delaying his death sentence.”

The crossbow lifted again, sight narrowing down its shaft at Arryn writhing in the grass.

“Enough!” Lynus barked, stepping forward, every line of his body taut, blade lowered but ready. His gaze locked on Isla first - alive, shaken, but alive—and then on Bannan. “I swear on all the Gods, you slimy cunt, I’ll send your head back to my father in a fucking box. Put the crossbow away. Be a man. Best me with a blade and I’ll come home.” he challenged.

Bannan smiled.

“Fine.” He almost sighed it, mockery dripping from his tone. His finger squeezed.

The bolt snapped free, straight and unerring, and buried itself deep into Lynus’ shoulder with a wet, brutal thud, his blade slipping to the ground.

Lynus staggered, teeth gritted, a guttural "FUUCK" ripping from him as blood bloomed hot down his arm. He caught himself before falling, eyes blazing as they fixed on Bannan.

He bent forward with a grimace, picking up his blade with his other hand as Bannan drew his own blade. "You always were a cowardly prick." Lynus spat, pushing his pain down, and meeting the man with a clash of steel..

 

[Isla]

Her skin went cold. White as bone beneath Bannan's arm, Isla's breaths came in ragged, shallow pulls through her nose, the rag dampening the sound of her sobs. She felt his arm clamp hard across her ribs like iron, the rise of his chest behind her steady and unbothered while her heart fought to escape her own chest. She could do nothing but tremble as she watched her nightmares unfold.

She thought the barking, the sound of Brett's voice was a hallucination, but to her horror, the lad broke into the clearing. His little voice ringing like bells through the chaos, only to be followed by the shouts of Arryn. Bannan let go of her, shoving her back with a warning as he rummaged for a moment only to return with a crossbow. No, NO! Please no! Run! Isla screamed the words into her head, but they stayed trapped behind the gag in her mouth.

The crossbow cocked. The sound of its release was deafening.

Isla jerked her head away, squeezing her eyes shut. She was too much of a coward to see which one of them had fallen- but the sound was unmistakable. The bolt hit flesh. And the sound of Brett's scream shattered her.

Arryn.

It had been Arryn.

A sob ripped from her throat, muffled and useless against the rag as her chest caved inward. She begged, silently, helplessly, for Brett to run. To leave her alone, to leave all of this. He could save his life, could tell Lynus to stay put. She would survive it all if it meant keeping them safe.

But Lynus burst into view next. His name roared in her head. Tears came faster, harder, blinding her as they streamed down her chilled skin. Couldn't he have waited? Couldn't he just stay alive? He could have let her go and came back later, with an army. For a moment she hated him, watching Lynus as he threw himself willingly into the fight only to have a bolt bury itself deep into his shoulder. She screamed against the gag, wishing he could read her mind and just leave.

But Bannan ignored her scream. He turned to meet Lynus, and approached him. With the distraction, Isla's numb fingers clawed at the gag. She wrenched it free and ran- stumbling through the uneven dirt and grass to where Arryn lay pale and still. She dropped to her knees, voice breaking as she whispered, "No, no, no, Arryn. Stay with me- stay, gods, please-"

Her fingers shook as she pressed the rag hard around the bolt. She didn't pull it out, didn't dare touch it. It had missed his heart, but she knew if she pulled, he would likely bleed out even faster. Her vision blurred as she leaned over him, putting pressure on his chest and begging him and the gods that barely believed in.

"You are fine, you are okay! Just...breathe for me, Arryn. Breathe." She whispered, voice cracking. Behind her a clash of steel was ringing against the pounding in her ears. She turned just enough to shout over her shoulder, "Lynus, go! Please- please, just go! Take Brett, take Arryn, and leave!" But he didn't. Of course he didn't.

Isla sobbed harder, pressing the rag tighter against Arryn's chest, holding his life beneath her trembling hands while everything else burned around them.

 

[Arryn Cross]

It hurt to breathe. Fuck, it hurt to even exist. Blood bubbled in his chest, thick in his throat, every gasp dragging fire through his lungs. His body screamed at him to stay down, to close his eyes and let it all end, but his mind clawed stubbornly against the dark. He couldn’t. Not now. Not when Lynus was out there, bleeding, fighting for his life and Isla's. That was Arryn's job.

Hazel eyes blinked open, finding Isla through the blur, her hands frantic and warm against his chest. He coughed, wet and rattling, lips staining red. “Help me… up,” he rasped, a hand fumbling weakly until it found hers. His face contorted with pain as he tried to shift his weight, his sword slipping against the grass. He could hear the fight, steel clashing, Lynus’ voice strained. His Prince. His brother.

“Please…” Arryn’s voice cracked, blood sputtering over his chin. “Help me up. I need to—” He choked, swallowed hard, and growled at his own weakness. “Go. Find Brett. Get him safe..” He was shaking violently now, trying to force his legs beneath him, but every movement was a battle against the black spots clouding his vision.

“Go, Isla..” His voice was raw, broken, but carried the sharpness of a man who would not and could not die lying down.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

The fight was a blur of pain and steel and blood. Every clash reverberated through the bolt in his shoulder, sending molten agony sparking down his arm and straight into his marrow. His arm burned, his shirt sodden with blood, but fury kept him upright, kept him pressing forward. This was the man who had tried to take his wife and child from him whilst he slept, who had shot Arryn down, who had dared threaten the boy. Lynus’ vision was a tunnel of red. Fuck his own pain. He was no Prince tonight. He was a husband. A father. A brother. And Bannan would die for daring to harm any of them.

He ducked a swing, parried hard, and turned the blade, carving a brutal line along the inside of Bannan’s thigh. Blood poured freely, hot and fast, painting the earth. Bannan staggered but lashed out, steel glancing across Lynus’ ribs with a tearing bite that nearly drove him to his knees. He roared, staggering back a step, teeth bared against the pain.

Bannan was slowing now, dragging himself toward his horse, blood leaking from him in sheets. Lynus stalked after him, blade heavy in his hand but unwavering. He wasn’t stopping. Not while Arryn bled on the ground, not while Isla sobbed his name.

“Lynus.” Arryn’s broken voice cut through the ringing in his ears. Alive. Thank the Gods, alive. Lynus’ chest lurched with relief, his grip tightening on his blade, chest heaving, but he didn't take his gaze from Bannan.

“Take Isla and go,” Lynus called, voice weak but resolute. “I’ll meet you there.”

"My men are on their way... You'll never make it.." Bannan spat, stumbling to pick up his crossbow again, Lynus ran at him, throwing a hard boot into his stomach, and another into his face so hard that he rolled a few feet.

"My men, you mean." Lynus barked as he approached, towering over the man as he pulled his way through the grass in effort to escape him. "Unless I'm mistaken, Arryn and I both outrank you." he corrected, his foot coming down hard on Bannan's wrist as he finally reached the crossbow. The man let out a cry of pain as the Prince's boot twisted, snapping the bone.

Lynus knelt down on the man's chest, the tip of his blade pressed to his throat. "What was your order?" he demanded. He should have killed him then and there, but he had to know. "Did he order her death? Mine?" he asked, pressing the blade enough to pierce the skin. Bannan grinned and let out a raspy laugh, teeth bloody.

"He only wanted his son and heir to come home...but i've been known to disobey an order here and there.." he said, glancing at Isla, and as Lynus followed his gaze, Bannan's free hand rose up, fingers curled around a rock that he smashed into the side of the Prince's skull.

Light flashed behind his eyes, pain exploding in his head as he slammed into the dirt. He felt Bannan fumble quickly for a weapon, heard someone calling his name, footfalls approaching. He was too dizzy to focus his sight on anything. A hard shove forced him onto his back and all he could make out was a dark shape looming over him, the world still spinning.

"NO!" Arryn managed to roar.

Bannan's arms raised, ready to plunge his blade down into Lynus's chest when Arryn barrelled into him.

 

[Isla]

Holding pressure to the bleeding wound in Arryn's chest was growing increasingly difficult when the man moved like a rabid dog.

"W-what are you doing?" Her voice cracked as Arryn grabbed onto her wrist, his blood- soaked hand fumbling against her skin. "No...Arryn! No!"

She tried to hold him down, tried to force him to stay put, but he was already dragging himself upright, stubbornness overpowering logic. A war raged behind his eyes as Isla's pleas fell on deaf ears.

"Arryn! I need to keep pressure. Please, please, please, just lie down!" She begged him, tears still painting trails down her cheeks. "You'll bleed out. Don't do this. Don't leave-" But he was already pushing past her, limbs shaking, eyes locked on Lynus fighting in the distance. Isla asked the gods how his loyalty could run so deep. How could his love for Lynus burn brighter than his instinct to survive?

"Arryn-!" She reached out for him again as she stood, but he was moving. Already gone from her grasp. Isla truly didn't know if this would be the last time she saw him alive. Saw any of them alive. She choked back another sob and fought every instinct that told her to run. She turned toward the fight- towards Lynus.

Her Prince was a storm in motion. His blade gleamed, his eyes were wild, fury in every blow. But she saw the blood. Saw the way he staggered, shoulder painted in red as his strength drained quicker than Bannan's. "Oh...Lynus..please.." She whispered, arms wrapped around herself as if that could keep the world from shattering apart. "Please be careful.."

And then it went to hell.

Crack

A rock slammed into the side of Lynus' head. "NO!" Isla shrieked. Her legs gave out beneath her and she dropped to her knees as if the blow had struck her instead. Her hands clamped over her mouth, eyes wide in horror as Lynus hit the dirt, sword slipping from his grip.

The sight..blood on Lynus' face, the bolt in his shoulder, slick crimson running down Arryn's chest even as he charged ahead. And Bannan..looming over Lynus with his blade drawn and aimed to plunge into his chest. It was too much.

Her stomach twisted. The trees around her twisted and tilted, the ground unsteady beneath her knees. Isla's throat closed up. She shut her eyes and turned, retching violently into the grass beside her, sobbing between spasms. It wouldn't stop. None of it would stop.

This was the end.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Blood ran hot down the side of his face, stinging his eye, making his vision blur and tilt with every breath. He could hear Isla, her voice strangled with fear, then the violent clash of steel and the guttural struggle of two men locked together. He forced his body onto its side, teeth gritted against the pounding in his skull, until the haze of red cleared just enough for him to find his wife in his sights.

“Isla..” His voice cracked, raw, as he staggered upright, swaying unsteadily. His eyes darted to her, panic clawing at his chest as his bloody hands reached for her face, for her shoulders, desperate to assure himself she was whole. “Are you hurt? Tell me you’re alright.” His breaths came ragged, uneven, every word edged with terror. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

Duke’s bark rang out, then hooves. Brett burst through the trees on Onora, the other horses trailing beside him, his face pale and stricken. His eyes flicked from Lynus to Isla, relief flashing there, until he caught sight of Arryn.

The captain had crawled only a few paces from Bannan’s corpse before collapsing in the grass.

“Arryn!” Brett’s voice cracked, high and broken as he abandoned the horses, falling to his knees at the captain’s side.

Lynus turned at the sound, and the sight of his brother bleeding out in the dirt nearly buckled him all over again.

 

[Arryn Cross]

It'd been close, too close. A second slower and Lynus would’ve been dead with a blade through his throat. But he wasn’t. Arryn had done his duty. He had saved his brother.

His dagger jutted from Bannan’s chest, but the bastard had left him with a slower death. Arryn’s hand wrapped around the hilt of the steel buried in his stomach, dragging it free with a sharp groan before casting it aside. He pressed his palm hard to the wound, but the blood welled hot between his fingers, spilling faster than he could hold it back. His strength bled out with it.

Brett’s frantic footsteps pounded closer. The boy dropped beside him, shaking, tears streaking his face as he pressed down on the wound with both hands.

“No—no, no, please! Lynus! Help him!” Brett’s cry cracked the night wide open, torn with terror.

Arryn’s hand lifted, weak but steady, catching Brett’s wrist, pressing his Captain's brooch into his hand. “It’s alright, kid,” he rasped, voice hoarse but calm. “There’s no fixing this. I did my job.” His chest heaved with sharp, shallow breaths, a cough bubbling blood at his lips. “It’s your job now.”

The boy shook his head violently, sobbing. “No! I can’t—not without you. You can’t leave me! Please, I love you, Arryn, please—”

Arryn’s chest clenched with a pain far worse than steel. He reached, hand trembling as he cupped the boy’s tear-soaked face and pressed a kiss to his brow. His voice dropped, softer than it had ever been. “You’ll do just fine. I love you too, kid.”

His vision blurred as another shadow fell at his side, Lynus, wild eyed, bloody, clutching his hand. Arryn managed the faintest smirk. “Don’t get dramatic on me, brother.” He tried to laugh, but blood choked the sound, a bitter cough wracking his frame. He swore under his breath, eyes squeezing shut against the cold creeping into his limbs.

“This was how it was meant to be,” he forced out, voice ragged but steady. “You gave me everything, Lynus. Thank you..”

He squeezed Lynus’s hand once more, hard, before his strength began to fail. "Don't let him watch this.. Leave me, get to the port," he frowned, fighting against the darkness dragging him under.

"Go on." he nodded..

 

[Isla]

In one short moment, the world fractured.

In the distance, she could hear Brett screaming, begging Lynus to save Arryn, but the words were warped, muffled, as though she were submerged beneath the surface of a lake. The trees, the grass, the chaos of the fight had blurred at the edges, dissolving into nothing more than sound and color and blood.

Arryn..

She couldn't make herself move. Couldn't force her lungs to draw a full breath. The blurry figure was little more than blotches of red. On his chest. His hands. The earth beneath him.

Not him.. Gods, not. him.

Isla's knees dug into the dirt as she stared, unseeing, at the dagger jutting from Bannan's chest, his corpse slumped unnaturally still beside them. He was dead. Bannan was dead. But there was no victory. None at all.

Because Arryn was barely moving, using the last of his energy to urge them forward. Isla wanted to scream, but her throat locked up tight, strangling any sounds before they could escape. Her mouth tasted like iron and salt, but she didn't know if it was from biting down on her tongue or from the tears flowing freely down her face, sliding past her lips.

She watched Lynus at Arryn's side, clutching his hand, barely making out the hoarse voice saying things she couldn't process. Brett was sobbing, desperately trying to stanch the bleeding that Isla already knew they couldn't stop.

She should be helping.

She should be doing something.

Anything.

But she was frozen.

She could only watch as Arryn whispered something, voice too low for her to catch. Could only stare while his shaking fingers pressed something small into Brett's palm. Brett wailed harder, and the sound ripped through Isla's chest.

This wasn't supposed to happen. They were safe. They were going to start a new life. All of them. And Arryn was.. Arryn. He was supposed to be indestructible. Unshakeable. The one who stood between them and danger. The one who had saved her more times than she had been able to repay. The friend who had saved her from herself the night she wanted to disappear.

...and I couldn't save you.

The thought carved into her like glass, sharp and endless, digging deeper with every frantic heartbeat of Isla's while Arryn's only slowed. Someone's voice cracked as they begged and pleaded, commanding Arryn to hold on. Brett was clinging to Arryn's shirt, shoulders shaking with broken sobs. And Isla.. she sat in the dirt. Useless. A silent witness to the man bleeding out before her eyes, trapped in a body that wouldn't listen to her.

Guilt was a living thing, coiling around her throat, whispering that his death was her fault. If Bannan had taken her, none of this would have happened. If she hadn't been the girl Lynus requested to accompany him in the brothel, Arryn would still be whole. Perhaps Lynus and Brett's lives would have been better without her. Lynus would have his kingdom and his brother. His best friend. Brett would have the man who had been a father to him. Perhaps Arryn and Jiya would have said fuck it to the societal status which kept them from being together.

Her breaths came shallow, too quick, edges of the world darkening. Somewhere beyond the roaring in her ears, Duke barked. She blinked and realized she was crying again. Silent, shaking, her hands smeared with Arryn's dried blood sat uselessly in her lap. The wind shifted, carrying Brett's broken cries, and Lynus' choked whispers through the clearing. Isla shut her eyes tight against the sight of it. But she couldn't shut out the sound.

Couldn't shut out the way Brett was begging Lynus to save Arryn.

Couldn't shut out the wet, rattling breaths as Arryn fought against death.

Couldn't shut out the memory of his laugh, his sarcasm, the rare warmth of his smile when Brett said something absolutely ridiculous.

She would never hear it again.

She hated herself for it. Because Arryn had saved them. Again.

And she hadn't done a thing.

 

[Arryn Cross]

Arryn’s eyes were growing heavier, the darkness creeping in from the edges until it was almost impossible to fight. He was so fucking tired. The pain was a tide too strong to swim against, dragging him down with every faltering breath. He could hear his own pulse slowing, the sound thunderous in his ears, like drums heralding the end. His chest ached, not just from the wound, but from everything it carried: Brett’s laughter, Lynus’ loyalty, Isla’s kindness, Jiya’s smile.

Each face flickered in his mind, burning against the dark. He clung to them, even as his breaths grew shallow, ragged, and death reached out its cold hand.

A thin smile tugged at his lips, or as close to one as a dying man could manage. His gaze found Lynus, blurred but steady, then drifted to Brett, who clung to him as though he could hold him here by sheer force of will. Arryn’s voice rattled, broken, blood thickening in his throat, drowning him with every word.

“Please… Lynus…”

The words cracked apart as crimson welled in his mouth and his lungs. His body shuddered with the effort, eyes fluttering, but still he tried to hold on, just long enough to see them safe. Just long enough to make sure they would run.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

There was nothing Lynus could do to stop the tears that blurred his sight. They cut through the blood streaking his face, unbidden, unstoppable. Even as he knelt in the mud beside him, he saw not the man before him, broken and bleeding, but the boy he had once found on the streets. The boy who had walked by his side every day since. His brother. His shadow. His sword hand. What the fuck was he supposed do without him?

His throat tightened until it hurt to speak. He leaned close, his hand gripping Arryn’s with all the strength he had left. “I’ll miss you, brother,” he whispered, voice fractured, barely a breath. With reluctance that tore him apart, he let his hand slip free, turning instead to brace Brett, who shook violently against him, screamingin protest.

The boy fought him, sobbing, refusing to let go, gripping Arryn’s arm so tightly his knuckles whitened. Lynus gathered him up, crushing him against his chest.

“I’m sorry, Brett. We have to go…” His voice cracked, his heart split in two.

“We can’t just leave him!! I don’t want to go! Please! Arryn, don’t make me go!”

Arryn’s eyes closed, his face turning away as fresh tears cut silent tracks down his cheeks. His body convulsed with one last cough, blood spilling into the grass as his breaths rattled, shallow and final.

“NO!” Brett screamed, a raw, broken sound that tore at Lynus’ chest as he dragged the boy away. He turned him from the sight, shielding him as best he could, though the screams and sobs kept coming. Brett clawed, kicked, and beat his fists against him, but Lynus barely felt it. His body was numb, his mind hollowed out by grief. His own pulse thundered in his ears, his chest rising in panicked, uneven gasps.

At the horses, he set Brett down by Onora and gripped him firmly by the shoulders, shaking him just enough to break through the storm. His eyes burned, his jaw locked as he forced the words out.

“If we do not leave, he will have died for nothing. Do you hear me? He saved your life. He saved mine. His last wish was that we go, and that is what we will do.”

Brett’s tear stained face twisted, his eyes full of pain and hatred and hurt. Lynus faltered, his expression breaking before he dragged it back under control. He reached to wipe the boy’s cheek with a trembling hand, his voice thick. “I’m sorry, Brett…”

He lifted the boy into Onora’s saddle, giving the reins a steady hold before turning to Isla. Dropping to one knee, he guided her face toward his, forcing calm into his expression though every part of him shook inside.

“We have to go,” he said again, low and steady. His hand lingered at her cheek a moment longer before he helped her into Onyx’s saddle and swung up behind her.

For just one heartbeat, he looked back. Arryn’s body lay still in the grass, his hand slack at his side. Lynus’ chest tightened with the urge to turn back, to scream, to fall to his knees beside him again. But instead he pressed his heel to Onyx’s flank, and the stallion surged forward with the others.