Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines (Completed)

Beric Dondarrion X Reader- The Resistance

A/N - This chapter was inspired by a compilation of Muse songs that I have made into a Spotify playlist; the link will be in the comment section down below.

You were sick to your stomach, watching the injured men coming back into your local tavern one at a time for the first time in what seemed like months. You noticed that a few of the regular faces had shown up yet and hoped that they would eventually walk through the door. It didn't bare thinking how many of the men from your village had died as of recent, and that was only including those who had been killed in the fighting; plenty more were starving after having lost their jobs when they were injured. Gods, when winter came how many more would die because of the mighty Lords of Westeros?

You busied yourself, taking tankards of ale to tables, dishing out the pies from the kitchen. Your sister was the cook, you had never had much skill in the damned kitchen; it was far too hot and sticky for you to get anything useful done, so you contented yourself with ferrying the food to the men and filling them with drink. "Evening Lionel, how are you?" you uttered softly, resting your hand on the older man's shoulder as you reached forward to place his food before him. He grunted a response before tearing at the food, forcing it into his mouth and down his gullet as if it were the first meal he had seen in weeks. You supposed it could have been, he had been fighting alongside the Stark army and was not likely to have been fed too well.

You wandered back to the bar, leaning against your father as you reached him. He brought his arm up and rested it around your shoulders in a tight squeeze before looking down at you, worry clear on his tight face. "What's wrong, Y/N?" he questioned, loosening his grip a little to allow you to shift so that you could stand more comfortably.

"They are all so different now, it's like they hardly remember themselves," you muttered quietly, your eyes lingering on the old man hunched over the meat pie, shovelling chunks into his mouth with his hands and swallowing them down almost without chewing.

"War does that, Sweetling, it changes people," your Father responded. He didn't have a chance to say much more as the sound of horses braying and the clattering of armour sounded outside of the tavern. "Go to the Kitchen and get your sister, keep her safe," he told you before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and grabbing the dagger he kept hidden below the bar for emergencies. You were hesitant to leave, your father wouldn't be able to protect himself for long if someone tried to harm him, but your sister would be ever worse off.

Within seconds you were pulling a whimpering Sophia behind you through the backdoor of the kitchen, leading her out into the wooded area that surrounded the tavern. You could both hear the screams of the dying men behind you and you halted in your journey. "Father is back there," Sophia whispered, voicing the one concern that played in your mind.

"If we go back there they will do unspeakable things to us; we have to keep going," you answered softly, staring at your home as it began to smoke slightly. Within moments the whole place was alight, the wooden beams catching quickly and spreading the flames. "Come, there is nothing here for us now," you told her again, gripping her hand tighter in your own and continuing into the trees.

A few days later you were still wandering, shoving through the bushes and low hanging trees and hoping that soon you would find somewhere safe to stay for a little while. You had only stopped for an hour or so at a time, too scared to stop moving long enough to get a restful sleep and so tired that you felt that you may just collapse into the wet, muddy, leafy mess that coated the forest floor. If it weren't for Sophia you would have given up long ago, but she was still here and you had to continue.

You paused for a moment when you reached a small opening in the woods, finding a broken down stone keep, so small it hardly counted as a house. It looked as though it had just fallen to pieces, crumbling under its own weight and taken back by nature, so far from people that it was almost out of place. "We can rest here for a while," you muttered, staying as quiet as you could, Gods knew what could be lurking just out of eyesight this far in the wilderness.