#thinking about emptying out one of the other cubbies so i can make second dragon age zone but that will just encourage me to buy more

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

thank you every artist who allows their prints to be available for postcards on redbubble it’s my favorite way to display a bunch of character art. i just cycle through which one is in front :) this goes for the inprnt 5x7 card packs also, i just really prefer borderless for small sizes!

[obihoekenobi]

title: sandstorm

pairings: din djarin/reader/cobb vanth

ratings: explicit

warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected sex

word count: 4,311k

What happens when a sandstorm, a Marshal and a Mandalorian turn up on your doorstep?

An afternoon to remember.

Link to AO3

You think it's a mirage at first, as you look out towards the horizon.

You straighten up from the ground, shielding your eyes against the twin sun's, as you try to make out the blurred figures.

Your Bantha, Mirta, snuffs against your arm as if to remind you she's still there. You place a hand on her in comfort, as you try to figure out if you're seeing things. You don't get many visitors out this way. The closest town was Mos Pelgo and those folk didn't often have reason to venture out from the haven their small town provided. If it could even be called that, between the Tusken raiders and the Krayt dragon.

Mirta stirs restlessly beside you, as you become aware of the wind picking up around you. Another day, another kriffin' sandstorm.

As you cast another look out, you realize the figures accelerating towards you are on speeders, dust kicking up behind them as they try to escape the coming storm.

With a sigh, you wipe your hands with the towel that hangs from your waist. You cast one last glance at your fast approaching guests, as you herd Mirta inside.

She was the runt of the litter, and just small enough to fit through the wide door into your storage room. You pull the tarp down to protect from the worst of it, as you fondly watch her settle down in some discarded blankets. You both knew it was a pretense at this point, pretending she should sleep outside. More often than not, she ended up in here.

"Behave", you say, pointing a finger at her in warning. You don't have to see her eyes through the thick fur, to know she's staring balefully at you.

You're interrupted from the staring contest, at the sound of speeders drawing to a stand outside.

Pulling your goggles down from where they rest on your forehead, and wrapping your shawl back around your head, you peel away the tarp and step back out into the elements.

Sand buffets against your exposed skin, as you try to take in the two men. Even after years of experience, you still flinch as sand rolls over you and streaks across the protective transparisteel of your goggles.

Wasting no time, you gesture the men after you, as you enter the sanctuary of your home.

You do your best to shake the excess sand off, as you wait from them in the entry way. You can't help but shake your head as you recognize who it is.

The marshal of Mos Pelgo, Cobb Vanth.

You wonder what he was thinking now, as he ducked inside your home. He always did warn you about the dangers of living alone, and here you were welcoming him and his friend into your home without a second thought.

Speaking of his friend, you send him an assessing look, as he steps in hesitantly after his companion and closes the door behind him, the noise from the storm cutting off with a shrill whistle until it sounds distant and muted. You don't see many Mandalorian out this way. You don't see many people, period.

"Much obliged, ma'am", Cobb says, easing his own goggles up over his head and shaking free the sand like a Mastiff pup. He shoots you a disarming grin, somehow managing to look dashing with his skin covered in a film of dirt.

You just barely stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Don't make me regret it", you say dryly, as you begin to divest yourself of your gear.

Cobb joins you in stacking his outerwear in a nearby cubby, but not before shooting a look at his friend. You file it away for later, as you watch the Mandalorian shift nervously on your doorstep.

"You don't have to take anything off, but I don't want you tracking sand inside", you say, shooting a mournful look around the already messy hallway, "you can clean up in privacy, if you go in through the door on the left".

It was a washroom, if it could even called that. It had a mirror, a stool and a sonic that didn't worked more often than not. Still, it should let him clean up without any prying eyes, if that was his problem.

When Cobb sends you a grateful look, you know you're right. You both watch the other man disappear through the door.

"He's the shy type", he whispers, jokingly, as he empties the sand from his boots. He knows the house rules after all.

"Not unlike yourself", you say, unable to contain the quip. He treats you to another blinding grin, and you're glad your face is still covered, as you feel it heat up in response.

"You know what I'm like", he says, falling into the familiar banter, "always a man of few words".

"I don't think I can keep this joke up much longer", you reply, finally unwinding the shawl from around your face, winching as become aware of the sand still clinging to your skin. You use the fabric to wipe away the excess, as you eye the other up and down.

"What happened to your armour?", you ask, as you finally realize why he looks so different. You didn't notice it at first, distracted by the blood red scarf he had used to cover his upper half. He looks strange without it, vulnerable somehow.

"It was returned to it's rightful owner", he replies easily, in that way you find so infuriating. It's like nothing bothers him.

You're interrupted before you can say anything, by the re-emergence of your other guest. You can't help but envy him, as you realise he looks no worse for wear.

"Well, come on in", you say, for lack of anything better.

They follow you down the narrow hall into the main room. Both have to duck through the door, to fit inside. You busy yourself with preparing dinner, as you let them get their bearings.

You've taken it in a million times now. From the bare walls to the rounded ceiling, the room was filled with all the necessities for life in the desert. The kitchen was where you retreated to, as you listened to the men seat themselves at your table.

"What brought you out this far?", you ask, as you rifle through your cupboards. Usually you settled for a small, simple meal, a mixture of things you had farmed yourself or traded for when you made your monthly trip to Mos Eisley.

"Well, my friend here, he insisted we had to visit, after I described the vision of the wastes".

You shoot him a look over your shoulder, this time you don't bother to hide the eye roll.

"Tap the table twice if you're being kept against your will, Mandalorian".

He makes a rasping sound from beneath his helmet in response, like a laugh that's been cut off too soon. You notice the way the Marshal's eyes flicker towards him, both of you cataloging the sound.

"Are you kidding, this guy can't get enough of me", Cobb replied, "he came all the way back to this rock to visit lil ol' me".

"I find that hard to believe", you say, as you carry a tray of simple food over. It's mishmash of dried meats and pickled vegetables, with Mirta's milk as the crowning feature.

You listen to Cobb as he recounts how the two met, nodding along where appropriate. The Mandalorian mostly let's the other man speak, though he does interrupt once or twice to curb his enthusiastic retelling. By the end you're aware your mouth is open, but you can't hide your shock.

"You were inside the Krayt dragon?", you repeat, turning to stare at the armoured man. His hand rubs almost self consciously along the back of his neck, but he doesn't outright deny it.

"I never even noticed anything had happened", you continue dumbly, "I've been so busy these past few weeks with Mirta".

"How is the old gal?", Cobb asks, and you smile in response to the genuine warmth you can hear in his voice. The Bantha had taken an instant liking to the lanky Marshal, which was part of why you had even let him into your house, after greeting the stranger loitering outside with your hunting rifle.

"Much better now but I worry about her you know", you reply, rolling your empty glass between your hands, "they're herd animals, Banthas".

"I'm sure she's just fine, you treat her like a princess after all", Cobb replies, as he rests a hand on your arm in comfort. Your eyes drop to the contact, his grip hot like a brand against your skin.

"Yeah, well, she is the head of the house", you reply, weakly. It's been a long time since another being has touched you, and feel your stomach swoop as he removes his hand.

The Mandalorian saves you from any embarrassment, by continuing to speak.

"You don't get any trouble?", he asks, and you feel your lips twitch into a smile. You can tell he's honourable, just like Cobb, already worried about your safety. There was no doubt in your mind, he would ride out into the sandstorm to slay whatever foe you could come up with. Two honourable men at your table, what were the odds.

"Don't get much of anything", you reply, truthfully.

"What about the Tuskens?".

"She's a Tusken whisperer, just like you Mando", Cobb said, interrupting before you could reply, "they respect her because of the Bantha".

The Mandalorian, Mando, dips his head towards you and it takes you a moment to realise he wants you to explain.

"My Bantha, Mirta, she's the runt of the litter. Banthas, they're a matriarchy, and when she fell behind her herd, they left her. I found her out there in the desert and nursed her back to health. The Tuskens caught wind of it and apparently it was enough to win their respect. They bond for life with the younglings, so they liked that I managed to keep her alive".

"So they leave you in peace", he supplied.

"Yeah, and Tuskens raids are about the only thing I have to worry about out here, not that I have anything worth stealing anyway".

You feel guilty, as you realize that only you and Cobb have been eating, picking away at the spread before you.

"Now, I don't know if you'll take that helmet off with your friend here, but I'm going to the fresher and if you want you can either eat in here or you can go through that door over there to eat in the storage closet. It's a tight fit but it's private".

You don't linger, though you can feel Cobb's heavy gaze on you until you disappear from his sight. You can't help but remember the last time he was here, how you stayed up all night, drinking and talking before you eventually stumbled to bed. It wasn't the first time you had slept with him, and it probably wouldn't be the last. You were sure he might have joined you in the sonic, if it wasn't for his stoic companion.

You can't help but compare the looks he had shared with you, with how he looked at the Mandalorian. You let your mind conjure the image, as you strip off your clothes. Cobb would act first, you decide as you step into the sonic. You can imagine him coaxing the other closer, voice dipping low in that way that had sent shivers up your spine when you first heard it. Still would now, if you were being honest with yourself.

After a moment of indecision, you switch the setting over so that water flows from the showerhead. You don't indulge too often, so you can't help but sigh as the cool water runs over your head.

You don't wish the Mandalorian wasn't there, couldn't grudge the company or the bright spot in your otherwise dull routine, but you can't help but wish it could be different. Out here, you were caught in a lonely world of your own creation, and very few things could break the the monotony.

After indulging for as long as you can, you switch the shower off. You shiver as you step out onto the cool stone, letting out a huff of amusement as you realize you forgot to bring in a change of clothes. You weren't used to company after all.

You do your best to dry off, and wrap the towel securely around yourself. Knowing you'll be embarrassed if you think about it for too long, you knock lightly against the bathroom door to announce your intentions.

When you hear no response, you peer back into the main room. You're surprised to find the Mandalorian alone, sitting picturesque at your kitchen table.

You don't have to see his face, to see the surprise written across his frame as he freezes at your appearance.

"I'm sorry, I've forgotten my manners it seems", you say, gesturing down at your lack of attire, "I don't get many guests".

He stands from his seat and for a moment you think he's going to leave, horrified by the show of skin. But then, he steps closer to you. You can see the question, as he raises his palm up slowly towards you. You find yourself nodding, even as you clench your fists at the top of towel that protects you from his gaze.

You quickly find yourself reassessing your previous assumptions, as he shifts forward with a confident ease. You swallow dryly, as his gloved hand closes around your neck. It should be frightening, having this stranger touch you, but the weight is comforting and grounding and you feel yourself quietly exhale as his thumbs digs in under your chin.

You take a moment to assimilate to each other, as he steps even closer. He's a contradiction of warm gloves and cold armour. He doesn't demand your attention, and yet he manages to block out everything around you. It's probably why you don't hear Cobb, until he clears his throat from the entry way.

"I can't leave you two alone for a minute, can I?", he asks, and you're relieved to see he doesn't appear to be angry. Instead, he seems intrigued. You can't make out who he's really looking at, as his eyes track over you both. You preen slightly under the attention, pressing closer to Mando in what you hope is a compelling image.

The Mandalorian doesn't seem perturbed by the audience, the opposite infact. He seems focused on the task, as gloved fingertips slide between the width of your shoulder blades, sweeping up the droplets of water that were making a path down your back.

"Hope I'm not intruding?", Cobb asks, as he meanders over. He waits for you to look at him properly, before he approaches you, so that you're flanked on either side. His hand tugs at the top of your towel, and you let him unravel it to the point where it hits the ground with a wet thump.

Their attention is heady, as you listen to both of their breath stutter out in sync. The Mandalorian's hand falls down to palm your breast, as Cobb presses the long line of his body up against your back. It's too much and not enough all at once, as your fingers search for somewhere to shelter under Mando's armoured front.

Cobb seizes on your distraction to leave a trail of hot kisses up the arch of your neck, hands settling firmly on your waist. You fall apart between the two of them, like a wave crashing against the rocks. If it wasn't for their tight grip, you weren't sure you would have been able to keep steady.

"I'm feeling a little underdressed", you gasp, purposely directing the words over your shoulder to Cobb. You see a flash of white teeth from the corner of your eyes. You lean into Mando, as you both watch him peel his shirt off over his head. His torso is just as lean as you remember, and you lick your lips as you watch the play of muscles across his stomach.

"Keep going". This time it's the Mandalorian, and you stiffen slightly in surprise as the words rasp past your shoulder. The two seemed locked in a silent staring contest, as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. It should be uncomfortable, but the armour is almost soothing against your feverish skin.

Whatever Cobb sees, he continues to undress. You watch with apt fascination, as he deftly unlaces the strings of his pants and let's them pool down his legs. The confident grin is back on his face, as he cheekily kicks his boots off, discarding his pants along with them.

He stands before you both, seemingly at ease with his nudity. You can't help but grin in response, as you squeeze the Mandalorian's arm where it rests around your hips. "What do you think, Mandalorian?".

"I think he's good at following orders, but what about you?".

"I think he did a pretty decent job".

You gasp in surprise as you're suddenly spun around, hands scrambling to grasp his shoulders as his helmet looms into your vision. "I mean, how good are you at following orders?".

"I don't know", you reply, hearing how breathless you sound but not caring the slightest, "I think you'll have to test it out".

"With pleasure", he purrs.

And then he steps away. You lurch half a step forward after him, but quickly stop when he tilts his helmet consideringly at you. You let your hand fall uselessly to your side, as you watch him sit on the edge of your bed. He kicks one ankle over the other, and leans back on hands as he surveys at you both. You notice Cobb makes no move to creep closer to you, both frozen under the Mandalorian's intense gaze.

"I want you to suck him off and I want to watch".

You nod eagerly in return, as you turn towards the Marshal. Cobb looks surprised as he glances at you but he allows you to grasp his hand and pull him closer. The ground is cold and rough underneath your knees, as you let yourself sink down in front of him. It's a heady feeling, as you run your hands up the length of his thighs, feeling the muscles tense and jump under your gentle touch. Cobb stares down at you reverently, but a filthy grin spreads across his face as your eyes lock again.

You don't bother teasing him, as you grasp him in your hand. The skin is velvet soft and already hard beneath your fingers, as you trail your grip across the length of him. Wasting no time, you take him into your mouth. You're gratified when Cobb drops a hand to steady himself on your shoulder, clenching in time with each bob of your head. You take him as far as you can, squeezing your eyes shut as he hits the back of our throat.

You pull off with a choke, taking him back into your hand as you try to catch your breath. You catch his eyes again, both grinning in tandem. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you bend down to mouth at his balls, muffing laughter as at hand on your shoulder flies up to cup the back of your head. Looks like he still likes that, you thought smugly.

You had almost forgotten about your advance, but the subtle shift of metal draws your attention away again.

The Mandalorian looks unperturbed and untouchable as before, except you can see controlled rise and fall of his chest. Deciding to see how far you can push him, you slide Cobb into the back of your throat, keeping your eyes locked on his impenetrable visor. You can't help but note the way his fists clench against your bedspread with a smug satisfaction. Looks like he wasn't as cool as he wanted to portray.

It also looks he wasn't the only one, as you feel Cobb's hand clench in your hair. His teeth are clenched in his bottom lip, and you can tell he's trying hard not to thrust into the heat of your mouth. You realize suddenly, that's he on his best behaviour and not just for you either.

"Want him to finish in my mouth?", you ask breathlessly, glancing between the two.

The Mandalorian takes a moment to reply, and his voice sounds rougher when he finally does speak. "Both of you, get onto the bed".

You scramble to obey him, as you climb up after the Mandalorian. You feel like a hunter trailing after it's prey, as he settles against the head of your bed and you crawl after him. Cobb isn't far behind you, though he doesn't make a show of it the way you do.

The Mandalorian has planted himself in the centre of your bed, and after a moment of hesitation, both you and Cobb settle on either side of him. You paw restlessly at his thigh, and you notice Cobb wants to do the same, if the fists clenched by his own thigh are anything to go by.

"You want him to fuck you?", Mando asks, jerking his head towards the Marshal. You're not sure who's gasp is loudest, as the Mandalorian's ungloved hand grasps Cobb's cock and gives it a sure stroke. You have to stop yourself from jumping the two, as you watch Cobb cling to the others arm, forehead falling to rest against his pauldron.

"How do you want me?", you ask, too excited by the possibilities that flash through your mind.

"Hands and knees in front of me".

You scramble to obey, setting your hands on either side of his spread thighs to steady yourself. The Mandalorian seems reluctant to let go of the other man, but eventually he lets up his grip and gestures the other man behind you.

You're practically panting, as you wait for Cobb to enter you. Your hands are tense around the Mandalorian's knees, as you feel him brush teasingly along the length of you. You have to bite your lip, to stop yourself from begging as you look at the Mandalorian in front of you.

You can feel the plea forming, but it quickly falls away as Cobb thrusts inside of you in one quick stroke. Your head falls into Mando's lap, as the Marshal starts to thrust into you, fingers digging into the sensitive skin on your hips. You bite the meat of your arm, to stop the nonsense pouring from your lips. Your eyes well up at the dual sensations.

You're startled when the Mandalorian cups your cheek, and raises your head to meet his gaze. He gently brushes the wet strands of hair from your tear stricken face, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. Your tongue flickers out in response, as your mouth wraps around the appendage. His grip tightens to just the right side of painful for a moment before he releases you and starts to unclasp the belts around his waist.

Your hands scrabble to help him, though your clumsy fingers are probably more of a deterrent than anything else. He's barely finished releasing himself from the confines of his flight suit, before you bury him into the back of your mouth. Both of his hands fall to grip your hair, as he curls around you with a curse that resounds inside his helmet.

You slide back and forth with each thrust of Cobb's hips, keeping your mouth slack on the Mandalorian's cock. You sneak your fingers under the edge of his clothes, digging your thumbs into the warm skin under his hip bones, and he lets you as his helmet tips back against the head of your bed.

"Kriffin' hell", Cobb moans, as he ruts into you with increasingly sloppier thrusts. It's maddening and the best thing you've ever felt, as you they fill you from both ends. You don't know how you've managed so long without this.

You can feel the moment Cobb tips over the edge, as he goes to pull away. You throw a blind hand back to grasp his wrist as you chase your own release, seating his cock back inside you. It's the only encouragement he needs, as his grip on your hips becomes ironclad, and he grinds himself inside of you. You both come apart together.

The sight of you both coming seems to do it for the Mandalorian, as he freezes above you, hands tightening against the back of your skull. You take him as far into the back of your throat as you can, as he fills your willing mouth.

You hold him through the after tremors, pulling off with a last suck as you swallow all of his seed.

The moment Cobb pulls out, you collapse onto the bed like a puppet without strings. You have barely enough energy to wrap your hands around the Mandalorian's waist, as you bury your face into the crux of his thigh. You huff out a laugh, as you feel Cobb slap your thigh companionably, as he collapses in parallel beside you.

A comfortable silence descends over all three of you, as you try to catch your breath. You can't help but purr as a hand settles into your hair again, blunt nails digging smoothly into your scalp. One eye peered open allows you to see it's the Mandalorian's hand, and that Cobb is receiving a similar treatment beside you.

You wonder if you could convince them to fuck, during the next round. It was a challenge you were up for you decided, as you snuggled further into your new armoured companion. But later on.

[hedgewolf-hunters]

Diamond hunt

Bane: This is one of my recent ventures only about a year old. Here we go.

Deep in the ancient Castle Blackstone on the fourth floor in the old library a small figure flies around quickly. A baby chao with dragon like wings, horns and two small fangs is holding a scroll in its nub like hands as it searches the aisles of each book case. Lined with more knowledge of this world and others, magic of both light and dark, and countless tellings of history, plays, stories, legends and more. The Chao spots its target and flies full force at them. He raises the scroll in a sword stroke type manner and swings downward. The target in question is a five foot tall crimson furred wolf with two abnormally long hedgehog spines on his back, two quills curled like rams horns, two like dragon horns, and the two center quills being normal. They have a white stripe down their top center quill and a black stripe down each of their ram quills. They are wearing open legged jeans and steel hiking boots with fingerless steel plated leather gloves. A large double helix claymore sword stands next to them leaning on the table the Hedgewolf is resting their legs on. He is holding a book in one hand and blocks the incoming scroll with one of his own.

"Heh sorry little Toth but you need to be quicker than that if you want to land a hit on me." The Hedgewolf says. He closes the book and turns to the baby chao, grinning as he looks at the chao with his sky blue eyes, a dark blue stripe under each eye. Toth the baby chao says two quick chao's and than pulls the scroll away to swing again. The Hedgewolf chuckles blocking the swings at the last possible second playing with Toth. They both are smiling as they play fight through the library aisles.

A ringing from the Hedgewolf pocket gets his attention long enough for Toth to land a hit.

"Ow! Heh ok ok you win little one." The Hedgewolf chuckles putting up a hand to strop the swatting. Toth chao's happily and successfully before tucking the scroll into a cubby hole in the book case next to them and flying to sit on top of the Hedgewolf head. The headgewolf smiles as he reaches up and pets Toth as he fishes a crystal from out of his pocket. He taps it with his thumb twice and it hovers over his palm prodcing a hologram as it spins.

"Hey you reached Bane Darkos, what can i do for you?" Bane asks as the hologram reveals a mole with glasses on.

"Ah yes, hello my name is Oswald i have contacted you through your bounty hunter contacts here in Gradius." The mole Oswald says.

"Whats the job then?" Bane asks picking up the yawning Torh from his head and walking out of the aisle into the main floor of the library. He carries Toth out of the library and down to the kitchen.

"Their has been a recent string of robberies in many of my jewlery shops. I have contacted the police but they have yet to even fully begin an investigation. I heard you do odd jobs as a bounty hunter and was wondering if you would be so kind as to come and capture the theif." Oswald explains as Bane walks down eight flights of stairs.

Setting Toth down on a cushion bed that Bane placed all over the castle for him, he goes and begins rummaging through the fridge for a drink.

"Well considering Gradius is known to have to odd robbery every now and then thanks to your cities main professions. No offense of course." Bane says grabbing a non alcoholic malt liquor and pops the top off with his thumb.

"Well that is the issue, this past two weeks it has only been my shop and my diamond mine that have been targeted." Oswald says as Bane takes a drink.

"Well, that is rather interesting. But why not hire a local hunter than, you do know my prices for being hired personally is steeper than any local you could find." Bane says taking another drink.

"You come more recommended. Not to mention no one will take the job because the theif has a tendency to avoid almost all security measures they put into place. Almost as if they were a ghost. Please Mr Bane, im losing buisness, ive been robbed six times and cant afford to many more." Oswald says. Bane thinks for a second than sighs putting down the empty bottle.

"Wire the pre determined amount of money to my account on the hunters list. Ill be there in a few hours." Bane says tapping the stone to cut the connection. He pockets the stone and picks up Toth. Walking out the door of the castle he whistles and the doors shut and a lock appears over the door. He leans forward and his spines extend and grow out. Wings begin to sprout as the spine unfold from the bottom out.

"Time for a little flight Toth. Hold on tight." He whsipers to the dozing chao. Toth snuggles into the warm chest fur and Banes hand. He smiles and lifts off before turning east to the town and his family grill.

Two hours later after Bane has dropped Toth off with his family he finally sees the mountains of Gradius. He sighs in relief rolling his shoulders.

"You know if you cant fly for this long without aches you won't make it past your prime." A feminine voice says to Bane. He grunts as he passes over the highest peak.

"If you'd just ask for lessons I would gladly show you how to keep loose while flying." She says. He grumbles as he angles down towards the city coming into view.

"Are you still mad about me hitting on that minx back in Primous?" The voice asks.

"Well no shit Drain. You know that anything you do while in control i count as me doing as well. Jeez i know your hornier than a horned toad but keep your robe on when we switch." Bane growls out before landing with a loud crash.

"Fine lover boy. I'll keep your pants on next time. Alright keep me posted if you need any powerups." Drain says before the noise in Bane's head goes silent. He stands up and dusts himself off from the impact debris. While the cloud still covers him he extends his hand downward and grips at the air. Slowly a light grows from his palm and the helix blade he had left at the library appeared in his hand along with a holster across his back. His wings fold in as he climbs from the crater with the blade in its holster.

"Ah Mr. Bane! So glad you could join us on such short notice." Oswald says from the back of a crowd of echidnas, porcupines, moles, groundhogs and insectoids. The short greying mole slowly forces his way through the crowd to stand in front of bane. He moves his glasses to dissolve any glare from the sun as he looks up at the three foot taller hedgewolf.

"Point me to the scene and I'll set up." Bane says rotating his shoulders and neck. Oswald nods and walks back through the crowd that quickly seperates for Bane.

Three hours later the sun has set the moon was full and Bane sits atop a building over looking the jewelry shop. The shop has been robbed everyday after the mine. The mine was robbed the day before so Bane decided to watch the shop.

"Hyleia you sensing anything?" He asks. The blade shimmers slightly and a pulsating rainbow orb appears.

"Not yet my young king. But the night has only just begun." A new feminie voice says from the orb.

"Ugh stop with the King stuff. I told you when i became your wielder i had no intention of ever taking the throne. Not as a monarch or figure head." Bane says through gritted teeth.

"Can you blame me Bane? You remind me so much of King Sickle. He had no machinations of becoming a ruler with his mate. But look how that turned out eh." She says with a slight giggle to her voice. A second giggle breaks in to the conversation.

"Oh thats one story you will have to tell me in detail Hyleia." Drain says

"Hey have your girl talk some other time please. We got company." Bane says looking down at the shop. Four cloaked figures walk up to the shop window. Bane watches as they look around and pull out a gemstone each. He grins and sits up placing his feet on the ledge and holding it with one hand to balance himself. He watches as the four of them walk through the wall.

"Ahh so high grade spells like that is how the manged to get through the others traps." Bane says taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

"Drain we need to change my sight. Chaos energy tracking would be prefered." Bane says. He feels the inside of his skull burn some as his sight is changed.

"Ok kiddo give it a try now." Drain says as she stops the burning sensation in his head. Opening his eyes Bane looks back down at the shop. He sees the four trails of the figures entering the shop and that they are still rummaging around inside. Grinning Bane jumps up and lands on a closer building. Waiting for twenty minutes Bane watches as they finally leave the shop with what seems to be quite a haul.

"Finally i was getting impatient." Bane grumbles to himself cocking his head to size the four of them up. The four of them tuck the stones away in their cloaks as they keep the bags out in the open. They quickly start running off to the outskirts of the city where abandoned buildings line every other street. Bane keeps at least three buildings between them so they dont spot him as he follows their trail.

They stop at the farthest edge of town and head into what looks like a condemned house. Signs of demolition and to stand clear litter the lawn and fence surrounding it. The four theives check to make sure they werent followed and head inside the same why they broke into the shop.

"Drain reset vision. I got our targets inside an abandoned building with walls of spells leaking energy." Bane says closing his eyes once more. He feels a quick burning sensation and when he opens his eyes the world is back to as it should be. Bane leaps from the roof he was mounted on and lands on the street across from the supposedly abandoned house leaving a sizable crack in the concrete. He walks towards the house gripping Hyleia's pommel, he sniffs and smells the gunpowder of the bombs lining the inside of the fence. He chuckles as he hops over the fence to avoid triggering the bombs.

"These guys where smat enough to set of early warning systems in case they were ever followed. Hyleia could you be a dear and scout the inside? I doubt that its only four in their now." Bane whispers before pulling the sword from his back and pressing it gently flat against the door. A quick shimmer from the sword and the outside of the house pulses. Bane closes his eyes one more time to see what Hyleia sees.

Inside the house the house the second story is barren and in no way livable. The first floor on the other hand is in fairly well condition. A functional living room and dining room along with chairs a brand new eighty five inch screen and a small trail from a hole in one of the fours bags. Following it to the basement Bane finds where they are hiding most of the time. Eight creatures in total three wolves, a fox, two cats and two hawks.

"Well this is quite a haul tonight Trigger. You guys spot anyone at the scene this time?" The female Hawk asks. A grey timberwolf shakes his head.

"Its odd really. The old fart has been hiring bounty hunters for security for the last six days. But tonight, not a soul. The security measures were in place as usual but no one to try and fight or capture us inside this time." The grey wolf says.

"That is odd but not unwelcome." The male hawk says. The female nods and points to an empty corner.

"Stack todays loot there and ill start counting it once i get some food in me." The female hawk says. Bane smirks as he opens his eyes and takes Hyleia off the door. He knocks as hard as possible to make sure they can hear him down in the basment.

"Well their goes the element of surprise." Drain says.

"Oh dont act like you wanted to do this like an assassin. You'd have burst through every trap they set here to make your presence known." Bane whispers.

"You...have a fair point actually. Glad to see you do like listening to my stories when you nap." Drain says. Bane snorts as he holds Hyleia's gemstone as he waits for an answer.

"You know they're probably chewing each other out and gathering guns right?" Drain says

"Probably. But then again what good would they do if i have control of the gun powder." Bane says. Both girls in his head chuckle as he listens and hears them trying to tiptoe up the stairs and silently load their weapons. Bane whistles and the blue marks under his eyes glow quickly.

"You guys are making me wait way to long for this. Ive got a baby to get back to by day break. So you have two options here guys. Turn yourselves into me and you'll be asleep peacefully for the next ten hours. Or fight and have me put you all into a week long coma. Your choice." Bane says out loud once he hears all eight of them arguing on the other side.

"You forgot the third choice." The grey wolf says. Bane sighs and lifts Hyleia forehand position and slices through the door. As oon as the door falls Bane steps through as all eight take aim and pull the triggers. Bane gives them a minute as they all try to fire on him.

"You kids done playing with your toys?" Bane asks. The wolves growl and jump at Bane in frustration. He looks un impressed as he side steps them at the last second sending one out into the yard to roll in the grss and stop centimeters from the bomb trap. The other two crash into the door frame and whine holding their bleeding muzzles. Bane moves Hyleia in single motion around his body blocking a stab with a knife to his back. Two more try to get him with the butts of their unusable guns. He uses his arm to block the butts and pushes the attackers back. With his reflexes he reaches for the fox that tried getting him in the back again aiming for a sweet spot. And a green aura quickly flows from the fox into Bane. He slams the foxes head into a wall before tossing the unconscious fox into the living room. Bane jumps back some as a cross bow bolt flies past his stomach. He glances at the male hawk holding the cross bow.

"Smart little birdie." Bane whsipers as he blocks another with Hyleia and pushes off towards the hawk. He catches a thrid bolt an inch from his eye as he goes over and behind the hawk and uses the flat of the blade to knock the wind from him and into a wall. Bane rushes again at the downed hawk and holds his head in his palm. Again the green energy flows from the hawk to Bane before he tosses him onto the fox in the living room. The two wolves with bleeding noses rush Bane and onslaught him with punches and kicks. He sheaths Hyleia with one hand and blocks some of their blows with his other. Once sheathed he closes his fists and pushes the wolves off of him. He growls as he pushes towards them both. Getting down on all fours Bane shifts his forward momentum to his legs and does an improvised axe kick. The wolves seperate as Bane leaves two large holes where the wolves were. They both manage to block a fist from Bane but are unable to stop him from pushing them into each other. Their skulls meet and Bane palms both of their heads quickly draining them of energy. He tosses them onto the pile.

"Four down and four to go!" Bane exclaims into the house. A throwing star flies past Banes eye just missing it. He glances in the direction to finally see one of the cats getting in on the fight. Bane growls and sidesteps as the third wolf tries again to sneak attack Bane. This time though Bane doesnt let him just fly off again. Bane knees the wolf in the gut to halt the forward momentum and than in almost the same motion round house kicks the wolf at the cat who cant jump away in time and gets knocked to the floor. Before they can react Bane pounces on them and slams their heads into the floor as he drains their energy. He adds them to the pile as well.

"Alright ladies this is your last chance. Give up peacefully and youll only be out for a couple of hours." Bane says down into the basement. He hears them talk it over for a couple of minutes. Than nothing as they start coming up the stairs.

Bane waits patiently as he keeps his eyes to the basement opening. Slowly but surely the two females come out of the basment. Ones wearing an over coat as well as the other. They have their hands up in surrender as they approach Bane. Then the cat begins to run for the door. Bane flings Hyleia at the door completly blocking the exit as the hawk tries to grab Bane around the throat and activate something under her coat.

"You know I was raised to give ladies the right to choose and to be chivalrous. But i was also taught that if they do not accept these traits than I should just not try to push it or in this case." Bane says reaching over his shoulder and grabbing the hawks head.

"Do what needs to be done. Being honest here, i really, REALLY, hate to harm women, even if they are trying to kill me so someone can escape." Bane says as the hawk passes out in his hand and he adds her to the pile. He cracks his neck and walks towards the cat who is on the floor cowering. Bane touches her head with a finger and soon she is passed out on the floor. Reaching in his pocket Bane sighs and leans against the wall. He pulls out a crystal amd double taps it to start it up. A dog in a police officer uniform appears on the hologram.

"Hey, i got eight unconscious here that need a pick up. Bring cuffs and contact Mr Oswald, tell him i found his stolen goods." Bane says to the officer who salutes before hanging up. Bane pulls Hyleia from the doorway and puts her back in the sheath.

Bane: Suffice it to say that job was actually pretty easy. Than again I am not so well known to be outside the forest so its understandable why that bunch had no idea who i was. But i got paid a little bonus. Something i plain to hold on to till the moments right. For anyone curious what it is ask in DM. Im not such an idiot to reveal what it is to the public in the open. But i hope you enjoyed the adventure. Now im off to help build a book fort.

[boschlingtumbles]

White Wedding Chapter 22

Beric squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about the fifteen to twenty foot drop below him. Tried not to think about the distinctly breezy feeling between his legs. Tried not to think about how that giant crash of the trellises would have staff running any second.

All he had to do was clamber over a couple feet to where the next window was and pop in.

Or maybe he would slip, fall and sustain a horrendous injury. Again. And they could find his mangled half-naked body in the rubble.

Beric gritted his teeth and forced himself to open his eyes. With superhuman effort, he scooted himself one rung over. There, that wasn’t so hard. Then another. Then another.

He had reached a portion of the trellises that had managed to survive Jaime Lannister, and he slid his feet into the rungs gratefully. Maybe things were finally turning around.

The distinct sound of voices floating from around the corner caught his ear. Or not.

Beric scrambled to the window, prior fears vanishing when faced with the all-consuming imperative of not being caught at a fancy dress party in purple lightning bolt undies. The window thankfully opened easily, although it might have just been the adrenaline lending him superhuman strength. He flung himself through and hit the carpet in a dive and roll, just as two chatty workmen came around the corner to inspect the damage.

Beric allowed himself to take a deep breath. For the first time in several hours, he was finally, mercifully alone.

He was used to being alone. He had no siblings and had struggled for most of his life to make friends. His one previous relationship had been with a guy who was in love with someone else, and that was really its own special brand of loneliness. 

Solitude could be comforting. There weren’t expectations for one. Nobody to disappoint. 

Then Thoros had come along, and dragged him from that little half-life which had been cozy in its own way, but also painfully dull. Life with Thoros was never dull. In fact, Beric smiled ruefully to himself, sometimes it was rather too exciting.

How on earth Robert getting married to Cersei had managed to upend his own life, he honestly had no idea. He had just been trying to be a good friend when Robert asked him to be in that stupid commercial. Wasn’t saying yes the right thing to do?

Beric had been sixteen when he’d had his motorcycle accident. As far as he was concerned, little good had come from that episode. But one silver (okay maybe more like brass) lining had been that he’d stopped getting attention he’d been quite uncomfortable with in the first place. He’d gotten plenty of stares instead of course (and to this day he couldn’t quite look in the mirror without flinching) but he’d built up walls and walls of self-defense to those.

It was quite another thing to have undergraduate girls giggling as he hurried through the quad on his way to class. He’d had to get a lock for the cubby where he kept his books, lest it look like a flower bomb had gone off. Even some of the law school girls would nudge each other, and the law school boys, particularly Crakehall and his crew did not like that at all.

“It doesn’t seem to bother you when you’re tending bar with me,” Thoros had said earlier that week counting up their tips so they could split them.

“You’re there to protect me,” Beric said matter of factly. “Plus it feels like it has a point. Like I’m getting something out of all the embarrassment. When I’m just sitting on a bus and some tween is taking photos of me... that is completely pointless,” he finished and flopped back on their bed.

Thoros, having finished divvying up the spoils, proceeded to start sprinkling Beric’s bills on top of him.

“Stop making it rain on me,” Beric rolled on his side to better glare at him. 

“I’m practicing for Sunspear,” Thoros said cheerfully, flicking a ten-dragon note at his nose.

Beric propped himself into a seated position.

“You’re using the money to rent a tuxedo for the engagement party remember?” He said sternly. 

“I was thinking...”

“No.”

“But...”

“No.”

“You’re not even listening!” Thoros said in a joking whine.

“There’s no justification for skipping your friend’s engagement party so you have money for a strip club,” Beric huffed.

“I hate tuxedos,” Thoros pulled a face. “I look like a waiter.”

“Only because you always rent so they don’t fit well. If you bought one...”

“Are you taking me to many fancy parties my lord?” Thoros teased. “Besides, we can both skip. You can’t tell me you’re looking forward to this.”

“Of course not.”

“So let’s stay home. Robert won’t even notice we’re not there,” Thoros wheedled, crawling across the bed to straddle Beric’s lap. And as Beric looked at Thoros’ perfect crooked smile, he really wanted to say yes.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. There can’t be many tween girls in attendance,” is what Beric said instead.

He should have said yes.

For starters, the dry cleaners had misplaced a number of his clothes, most upsettingly his tuxedo. So come Friday, both he and Thoros were at the store to rent tuxedos. 

“See? Waiter vibes,” Thoros said glumly, looking at himself in a mirror.

Beric scowled as he tried on yet another pair of trousers. He knew he was lanky, but it was infuriating that the only sizes that were long enough were for men of much wider girth.

“It’s just for one night,” he said finally. He had no idea whether he was trying to convince himself or Thoros.

Then Saturday morning, he woke up to discover three new fan accounts dedicated to #oneeyedhottie. He groaned.

“You seriously don’t see the humor in this?” Thoros asked drily, looking over his shoulder. “Is that your highschool yearbook photo?”

“Where did they even find it?!” Beric fretted. “And no. I don’t see the humor in being MORE of a freak show.”

“I don’t like it when you say those things,” Thoros wrapped his arms around Beric. “First, I would deck anybody who said that about my boyfriend. So you’re treading on thin ice ser. Second, I have plenty of scars myself.”

Beric turned hastily.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not the scars. I just don’t like people looking at me like I’m something I’m not.”

“Like?”

“I dunno. Somebody to be admired.”

“I admire you,” Thoros said bluntly. “You’re my hero.”

“I think we’ve already proven your judgment is questionable,” Beric noted. When that failed to provoke a smile, he shifted tactics.

“What will make you forget I ever said anything?” He asked, running an idle finger down Thoros’ side, pleased when he got a shiver in response.

“You could...” Thoros broke off as he squirmed away, making a sound of mock exasperation. “You could give me your phone. It’s making you all broody.”

“My life is making me broody,” Beric rolled his eye, but he tossed the phone, and used Thoros’ momentary distraction to pull him close again.

But Thoros might have been on to something, because by the time they had gotten to King’s Landing that evening, his spirits were feeling markedly lifted. In contrast to Thoros, who ground his teeth as yet another person handed him an empty glass.

“Maybe I should just start chucking them into the crowd,” Thoros scowled.

“You will not,” Beric yoinked it from him gently. “I’ll find somewhere to put it down.”

“Okay, I’m going to go stand over there on the lawn where there’s no people to hand me garbage,” Thoros said. “Are you good by yourself?”

“Yup,” Beric said cheerfully. And of course, no sooner had he set down the empty glass on the bar then he became cognizant of a young girl staring at him. He moved to the garden. Seconds later, she appeared in the tree line, this time slightly closer. Beric swallowed, a little unnerved by her unblinking gaze, and decided to go into the house. Only to hear her soft footfalls trailing eerily behind him.

That he had proceeded to lose her, only to end up locked in a room with Jaime Lannister, only to escape to find himself without pants entirely (he knew the rental tuxedo was too big!) was only indicative of the fact that he was no hero. He was a hapless idiot who screwed everything up. He’d tried to do the chivalrous thing and give that girl the slip without hurting her feelings. Then he’d tried to be a nice person and help Jaime Lannister. And where did all of this trying ever get him?

Beric dusted himself off glumly and looked around. Jaime Lannister’s bedroom had the forlorn look of a room that had not received much use in four or five years. He walked over to the bureau and pulled open a drawer, thinking that while Jaime was an inch or two shorter than him, at this point any pants were better than no...

The drawer was empty.

Beric, with increasing anxiety, began to pull out the other drawers. Empty, empty, empty. He checked the closet. Empty.

Fuck. He sat on the foot of the bed heavily. He knew Jaime hadn’t lived at Casterly Rock since high school, but he’d assumed he would have some clothing left lying around. 

Okay think. Brienne’s suitcase in the corner would be of no help. Who lived here? Tyrion was still here—Beric shook his head at the idea of trying to use any of Tyrion’s clothing—and... Tywin. 

Tywin Lannister was Jaime’s height, so they would be short on him, but he was also thin. They’d probably fit better than any of Jaime’s old clothes. All the same... Beric winced at the idea of having to explain to the host of this party what exactly Beric was doing running around in his trousers.

But it would only be for the ten minutes it took to get down to the garden and retrieve his own. The odds of running into Tywin were infinitesimally small.

Beric took a deep breath and opened the door, poking his head out. He looked left, he looked right. The hall appeared abandoned.

He edged out. Okay first question. Where exactly was Tywin’s bedroom?

After several wrong turns and dead ends, Beric heard voices. Quickly he withdrew into what appeared to be a linen closet and held his breath.

“It’s just too vexing for words! I can’t believe none of the staff here can fly a helicopter! I would have thought that at least Westerling...”

“Leave the poor man alone. Just accept that you’re going to have to ask Steffon to repark his vehicle. Maybe you can make an announcement. ‘Will the owner of the corporate helicopter obnoxiously parked on the lawn please move their vehicle?’”

“Everything’s a joke with you! Look, can I at least borrow your phone?”

“Fine here.”

Beric peeked through the crack in the door to see Cersei typing out a text, an experience of concentration on her face as Tyrion tapped his foot impatiently. He briefly considered poking his head out and asking for assistance, but then considered that every time Cersei had involved herself in his life it had gotten worse. He kept his mouth shut and watched as they slowly ambled down the hallway.

“Who you texting?” Tyrion asked when Cersei tossed his phone back.

“Just responding to Jaime,” Cersei said and then they were gone.

Beric counted to a hundred while considering that when last seen, Jaime didn’t even have a phone. He decided to walk in the opposite direction.

Finally he got a break, when he saw the cavernous oaken doors of what could only be the master bedroom. 

If bedrooms were windows to the soul, Tywin’s soul was dark and rather minimalist.

Beric mentally apologized to the wedding photo of Tywin and his late wife, the silent witnesses to his crime. He opened a closet and... voila! 

Beric wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything more beautiful.

Less than a minute later, he was at the very least decent, even if he also looked like he expected an imminent flood.

Being somewhat fully dressed turned out to be a relief, because the aforementioned oaken doors unexpectedly started to open.

For the second time in perhaps twenty minutes, Beric found himself hastily darting into a closet.

Tywin Lannister slowly let himself in, and Beric tried to retreat even further into the closet. 

Please don’t let him find me, Beric begged a universe that had never been particularly kind to him. Dear gods, I can’t go like this. Cowering in a closet in the man’s trousers.

Tywin, instead of turning to the closet, went to the bathroom. Beric heard the faucet turn on briefly, a splashing sound. He peered through the crack in the door. 

There was a second of nothing, and then Tywin returned to the bedroom, his tie and cuffs unloosened. He sat on the foot of the bed heavily, staring at the same photo that Beric had noticed earlier.

“She’s your daughter,” Tywin huffed at length. “What am I supposed to do here?”

He’s talking to his dead wife. Please don’t let him find me cowering in his closet wearing his trousers listening to him talk to his dead wife. They’ll never even find my body.

“Part of me wants to just drop it. Steffon was my first friend. He warned me about Aerys and I chose money, I chose power. I chose incorrectly. I think... I think had you been there I might have done things differently. But it you weren’t. You died. And fuck that asshole, he wasn’t there. He betrayed me first, you know he did.”

There was a long pause.

“If you were here, you’d tell me to get over myself,” Tywin sighed. “Gods I can hear you in my ear sometimes. I just wish I could get some kind of sign, that this will be okay, that I’m not making more of a godawful mess of my children’s lives than they have already done on their own.”

There was a longer pause. One that seemed to last an eternity. Beric swallowed, screwed his eyes shut, and then kicked the back wall of the closet hard.

The echo of that thump seemed to last even longer than an eternity.

“Fucking mice. I’m calling the exterminator tomorrow,” Tywin grumbled. But maybe it was Beric’s imagination, only he didn’t seem quite as sad.

Beric counted to a thousand after Tywin left.

Thankfully this time he knew where he was going. Outside, outside and over to the east wing. And there, somewhere on the ground amidst the rubble, would be his pants.

He hurried out through the maze of Casterly Rock, a mansion whose floor plan he was now unfortunately and intimately familiar with. He cut across the second floor, smiling to see Brienne Tarth and Catelyn Stark, sequestered in a reading room laughing together. He slipped by, not wanting to intrude on their moment, even less as he was currently dressed.

Upon reaching the outdoors, Beric was momentarily disoriented by how dark it had gotten. People were having dinner now, he could hear the clink of silverware. He hoped Thoros wouldn’t feel abandoned at their table—probably not, he was fairly sure Cersei had relegated all of Robert’s unattached friends to a table in the back. Thoros would be laughing with Melisandre and Oberyn and Elia, her boyfriend Arthur, and Mace… no Mace would be at his mother’s table, Beric corrected himself. Regardless, he looked forward to sitting down with friends and putting this entire sordid ordeal behind him.

He rounded the bend, noted that there had been little effort to clean up the massive collapse of flowers. He could see the window where he and Jaime had crawled out, the broken bushes where Jaime had fallen, which meant he would have put Beric’s pants down right... there.

Beric looked blankly at the bare ground before him. He nudged some plywood away, lifted some flowers up. He proceeded to work with greater urgency, in a wider and wider circle around where he had been sure Jaime had put them.

Thirty minutes later, he sat down with a sigh, wincing as the trousers rode up even higher. He had to face the facts. He looked ridiculous and his the bottom half of his rental tux was nowhere to be found.

He nudged a bit of broken wood with his foot forlornly. Maybe he should just go find his dinner table. Even if people stared, Thoros would have some silly story for him that would take his mind off things.

Beric brushed himself off and headed toward the courtyard. As it happened, he had a perfect view for what happened next. As did several hundred dinner guests.

Ned Stark slammed both hands against the table where he was sitting and stood up, his chair tipping backwards with a crash. He looked furious, and yes, maybe a little tipsy.

“Well MAYBE,” he shouted at Hoster Tully, seated a mere two seats away, “she isn’t here because you humiliated her in front of all these people!”

Hoster Tully, refusing to be talked down to, stood up as well.

“How dare you take that tone of voice with me?!”

“See?! You don’t even deny it! That’s the worst part, that you know what you’re doing and you just DON’T CARE!”

“Lower your voice this instant or I’ll...”

“YOU’LL WHAT?!”

And then Hoster grabbed Ned’s shoulder, and Ned hauled back and punched him square in the nose.

Even from a distance, Beric could see the spurt of blood, and he could almost feel the silence radiating outward across the courtyard.

Beric closed his eyes. With everyone distracted, now would be the perfect time to walk to his table and plop down. Thoros would hand him his flask and Beric could have a swig of rum and he could just relax and enjoy the party.

Or he could go back into that gods-damned maze of a house and find Catelyn and send her out to rescue her husband and hope she didn’t notice he was wearing Tywin Lannister’s clothing.

It was a very easy choice, but Beric was already heading back to the mansion.

He found Catelyn more or less where he left her, with Brienne. Both girls were holding empty wine glasses, and Beric thought rather wistfully to the flask waiting for him in Thoros’ pocket.

“Catelyn, Brienne, I’m so sorry to interrupt. There’s been an um incident, Ned rather needs your help,” he said to Catelyn.

He knew she’d registered the ill-fitting trousers because her gaze had drifted briefly to them, but she was too polite to say anything.

“Of course Beric,” Catelyn rose. She turned to smile at Brienne. “I suppose I’d better rescue Ned.”

“Of course,” Brienne gave a bright slightly unfocused smile. “Beric, I thought that commercial was terrific. It was really nice of you to help out Robert like that.”

Beric began to redden at the reminder of the commercial that as far as he was concerned had started this entire mess. But Brienne’s gaze was open and guileless and he knew that she just meant the comment sincerely in the same way he knew she hadn’t noticed his outfit at all.

“Thanks Brienne,” he gave her a small smile back. She was already snuggling deeper into her arm chair, the strap on her pink-ish dress falling down one white shoulder. He thought in that moment she looked rather like a modern day Cinderella after midnight, tired of glass slippers and needing a nap.

“So what’s Ned need a rescue for?” Catelyn asked drily.

“Oh! Right,” Beric took a deep breath. “He punched your father in the face.”

“HE WHAT?!”

Catelyn Stark née Tully was truly frightening when she got angry. An almost dead expression in her eyes. Beric, feeling slightly guilty about being responsible for such a transformation, decided to hang back and let her march ahead.

And that was how he noticed Cersei hurrying from a cellar corridor, a bundle of clothing in her arms.

Beric did a double take. Surely she hadn’t purloined his trousers?! But no, it was all women’s clothing. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to follow her.

Cersei casually shoved the garments into an antique highboy drawer and then flagged a waiter.

“Sir, where is the sommelier? I’ve been looking for her all night. I must say, I’m finding this dereliction of duty to be rather... unprofessional.”

“So sorry Miss Lannister, I’ll track her down right away,” the waiter bobbed his head nervously.

Cersei gave him a charming smile.

“You might start with the wine cellars.”

“As soon as I deliver these desserts,” the waiter promised.

Cersei floated back to the courtyard, and after a brief pause to wipe the sweat off his brow, the waiter did the same.

Beric hesitated. This really REALLY wasn’t his business. But...

He quickly went to the highboy and retrieved the clothes, and set off for the wine cellars.

“Hello?” Beric called cautiously as he opened the first door. This far down, the air was cold and clammy. It reminded him of a different cellar, Gregor Clegane’s hands around his neck, drowning... Beric forced himself to take a deep breath. In all likelihood there was a scared girl who had fallen afoul of Cersei Lannister out there. This was not the time to be having a panic attack.

“Hello, um miss? I found your clothes, are you okay?”

Beric listened for a moment and upon hearing nothing was turning to exit when there was rustle.

“Wait! I’m here, um behind this rack. Please don’t look, I’m um... not wearing much.”

Beric could relate.

“I’ll toss your clothes in that direction, and I’ll wait for you in the hall. But you need to hurry, I think a search party will be looking for you.”

A minute later, a rather bedraggled looking girl a year or two younger than Beric emerged, trying to smooth her skirt suit. A lacy black bra was still visible under her white shirt, and Beric coughed and nodded in the general direction. The girl looked a tad confused.

“Oh!” She tucked the shirt in, which had the effect of pulling it even further down and revealing more cleavage. Beric winced.

“Here why don’t you wear this,” he shrugged out of his jacket. 

“I know these cellars are cold but I’m rather used to—“

“I insist,” Beric said firmly and draped it over her shoulders, rendering the outfit somewhat more work appropriate. “Now we really must be going.”

He led her out, barely skirting several waiters who had clearly been dispatched to fetch her.

“I don’t know what happened, I had the most lovely romp with Tyrion and then he texted me for a repeat during dinner and that he would wear his birthday suit if I would. And I went and I waited and...”

Beric was glad it was dark because he knew he was blushing terribly. They had made it out of the mansion, and were now hurrying across the lawn. He had the vague idea that if he could get her to the catering prep tent, she could act surprised that anyone would think her missing. It was pitch black, and their progress was only occasionally punctuated by the flash of the fireworks from above.

“I can’t think what was taking him so long, and what on earth happened to my clothes,” the girl was saying. Beric flashed back on Cersei borrowing Tyrion’s phone and rather doubted that “Tyrion” had been planning to come at all.

“I suppose I’m just—oof!” The girl lost her footing and landed on her knees. 

“I think I broke my heel!” She cried, clutching the shoe to her person as if it were a small pet.

“Shhh,” Beric tried to shush her. They were so close, but any noise could call the attention of the staff. “Can you walk?”

“No I don’t think so,” the sommelier tried some weight on her foot and winced.

“Okay, I’ll carry you,” Beric decided, looking doubtfully at the tent. It wasn’t terribly far. He could manage.

He staggered the remainder of the way, her arms around his neck, head buried in his shoulder, before at length he could put her down on a folding chair.

“New plan,” he panted as he set her down. “You twisted your ankle in the cellar and have been icing it here for the last hour.”

He cast around for some ice and knotted it into a dishrag as a makeshift ice pack.

“They’ll be so mad at me for playing hooky and not getting anyone to cover!” The girl bit her lip. Then she looked at him more closely.

“Say you look familiar.”

“I’ve got one of those faces,” Beric offered tepidly, aware that with the whole missing eye thing he most certainly did not. “And Miss, I really don’t want to presume, but you DID play hooky without getting anyone to cover. TWICE. And not for a legitimate reason like spraining your ankle but to hook up with the son of your employer!”

His companion had the grace to look a little sheepish.

“You’re right. I suppose it wasn’t very...”

“Professional,” Beric prompted, recalling Cersei’s word.

“I’ll take my lumps. And... and I’ll text Tyrion that it was fun but I have a job to do,” she added.

Beric gave a smile of relief and bent his head to the work of getting the ice pack on her ankle. He didn’t know what the situation there was, but he thought the more distance that this girl put between herself and Cersei Lannister, the better.

“You’re even better in real life you know,” the girl said suddenly. 

“Real life?”

“You’re from that commercial right? With the little boy? But you’re even better in person,” she pressed. “Wait till I tell all my friends that I got rescued by the one eyed hottie from the commercial!”

“I um have to go,” Beric blurted to keep from screaming.

“So basically,” Thoros smirked when Beric found him—or rather when Thoros found him, after the fireworks were done and people were lining up for the valet. “Basically you saved the day. I told you you’re a hero.”

“I didn’t save anything,” Beric protested. Now missing his jacket in addition to wearing somebody else’s trousers, he felt exceptionally unheroic. “I just did what anybody would have done.”

“You convinced Jaime to talk to Cersei about the wedding. I ran into him later, you know. You tricked Tywin into forgiving Steffon. Jaime says he saw them in the library drinking scotch.”

“I just said that to Jaime, he didn’t listen,” Beric disagreed. “And nobody tricks Tywin Lannister. He already wanted to do it, he was just looking for a nudge.”

“Fine you NUDGED Tywin Lannister,” Thoros dipped his voice to make it sound dirty, and Beric glared at him. Thoros only grinned back.

“Then you sent the cavalry to save Ned and finished it up by foiling a Cersei Lannister plot. Has Cersei ever been foiled? I didn’t know it was possible.”

“Well I think she just wanted to break up Tyrion and...”

“Tysha,” Thoros supplied.

“How do you know her name?”

Thoros handed Beric back his cell phone. It was opened to one of the fan Ravengram accounts. There was a picture, of Beric looking down in concentration as he held an ice pack to a purpling ankle. 

The post was by one Tysha Crofter. My hero, said the caption.

“I’m not a hero,” Beric began stubbornly, but Thoros kissed him to cut off his argument. He tasted like rum and a little marijuana and no matter what Thoros thought, he looked good in a tux. 

“If the Internet says it, it must be true,” Thoros grinned when he broke the kiss. And Beric found that he had quite forgotten what he had been planning to say.