What Podrick was able to find out at the village was useful; the first thing is that it was called Goldgrass. The rest he found out from sitting in the tavern as he ate a big meal and listened, since people didn't stop talking.
The peasants were shocked and distraught about what had happened, about the Queen's disappearance. Most people didn't think her dead but in the run and so the people living near Torrhen's Square, where the attack had taken place, were conducting searches through the woods, being vigilant and ready to help her in the case of a sighting.
He also heard that her bannermen were gathering and being sent in different directions to expand the search. And it wasn't just the North that was hanging by a thread; the Northern army wasn't that big and since the territory was so vast, the first ones to join in the search for the Queen even from afar were the Knights of the Vale. Podrick remarked on the lack of news from King's Landing but he wasn't there to ask questions but to listen, since he didn't want to let people know what he was; a suspicious foreigner, which at the moment could be dangerous.
After hearing that the Lord of the Castle ruling the village was one of her most steadfast followers, and that he had just sent his bannermen to the meeting point with her army it became evident that they should go to that castle.
He brought her food along with the news. He knew it was important to give her the food first but she just took it from him and set it down to eat it without enthusiasm as she demanded that he talk. Podrick shook his head telling her that he brought good news but he would only tell her once he saw at least half of the meal disappear. "It's tasty. And you need to eat to keep your strength up. Barely two rabbits in four days is not nearly enough sustenance. No wonder you have a headache."
"I can't eat while I'm feeling this uncertain." Unlike him.
Podrick shook his head, "Try it." he stood and spoke before she stopped him to put him in his place, "I'm getting the horse, I think it's too exposed. Eat. I'll be back." He tried to take his time but he knew he couldn't be lurking about for too long. He went back to her and saw that at least a quarter of the food was gone and he gestured for her to continue as he talked.
"House Stout of Goldgrass is a noble house sworn to House Dustin." Sansa said once she had all the information that he had gathered.
He realized that worried her, "So?" he wondered.
"When House Bolton took Winterfell, House Dustin of Barrow Hall accepted them as their liege lords."
Podrick nodded, "…as most Northern houses did."
"...Yes, but most houses questioned it out loud. House Dustin was one of the firsts, if not the first, to accept them without qualms. After, they swore fealty to Jon and then to me and they haven't broken their oath yet but... I can't help but be wary." Wary was all she managed to be.
Podrick nodded in understanding, "What other options do we have?"
They had strayed quite a lot from the town she had original meant to visit and there was no way to go back. "The King's Road, Moat Catlin, but it would take about a week to get there..." or more and that would be with letting the horse rest. "...I don't think that even making haste we could intercept the Knights of the Vale."
Podrick knew it would be quite the journey but once on the road they would leave behind the dense woods and they would practically be in the open, which meant they'd be vulnerable to its more regular dangers.
"Are you sure they said nothing of my attackers?"
"Not a word, Ma'am. But I assume they were caught if your army is moving nearby and the people from around here have kept their ear to the ground," he waited for a reply that didn't come. "Has House Dustin given you any reason in the last years to mistrust them?" he insisted, he didn't want to make the effort to reach the King's Road when receiving the help of the Lord of these lands was a possibility.
The only thing in her mind was that they had been the Bolton's vassals. Suddenly an anxiety took over, her appetite had vanished a while ago and an ache on the mouth of her stomach made her want to vomit. She pushed the food away and toward him.
Podrick didn't' appreciate the haughty move she made to push aside the leaves that contained the food, "...the best thing would be for me to go to Barrow Hall and try to find out more," though he didn't think she'd like to be left alone. "Think about it. At least we would save ourselves from repeating the mistake of getting too far away from a safe site."
"This place is not safe!" There were personal reasons why the Lady of this land detested the Starks. And though she was aware of those reasons, Sansa, in her arrogance, had refused to apologize in her father's name the second the woman swore fealty to her as her Queen. She had talked to the Lady, she had listened to her and her vassal's problems, they had broken bread on her table but she hadn't apologized, opting instead to ignore the issue.
Seeing her get lost in thought, Podrick gave her some space by taking food to the horse and staying with it and petting it as he studied her while she weighted her options. Some minutes later he heard a familiar sound and he was surprised to see her bending over and vomiting. He was lost as to how to proceed at first but then decided to approach her as she breathed heavily. "Are you sick?" and she hadn't said anything?
She shook her head while holding her stomach. She tried to control herself as she took the flagon from him and she stepped away from him frightened and angry, feeling her heart beating and her body shaking.
She walked towards the horse, cleaning her boots on the poodles of water on the ground; he followed closely and she tried to appear less affected than she actually was. Truthfully she felt like she was drowning in panic. "I don't want to go to—"
"—Fine ...The King's Road, then," he said in a confused haze at first but then he started to realize why she had such a visceral reaction; the Bolton's, and maybe thinking that he would fight her on taking the King's Road, that he would try to undermine her decision, which he actually thought of doing. "I could...steal a horse to make haste and get a dress with the money we have so you can go unnoticed." after seeing her washing off he noticed the flagon in her hand, "I doubt we'll be able to intercept the Knights of the Vale but we could try."
She knew Podrick was trying to calm her down but at the moment she didn't want to listen, she wanted silence, and to feel a semblance of peace.
She went to mount the horse but her strength failed her, all she managed to do was grab on to the reins with her fist. She exhaled as she bent her neck, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the saddle. Among the myriad of thoughts going through her head she briefly wondered what he'd make of this, if he thought this was her overreacting; throwing a tantrum.
Podrick only stared at her with concern; scared and unsure of what to do. Eventually, he dared squeeze her hand, the one grabbing on to the reins, "It'll be alright." In that moment, she lifted her head and looked at him; he was shocked to find her looking ashen, sweaty and breathless, "…sit down." He tried to pull her away but she refused.
It wasn't the first time Sansa had succumbed to this sudden anxiety and she had learned to control it, at time. She closed her eyes and couldn't help but let out a mocking huff when she heard him say she was scaring him. "I'm...fine." she immediately tried to think of Winterfell awaiting her return, of Arya, Jon, Bran, her parents, Rickon.
"You're not fine..." he said and maybe he was just a fool because it took him a long time to suspect what was really happening. Podrick had seen and heard about soldiers who had lived through impossible situations on the battle field and about how they sometimes reacted in unexpected ways from a second to the next.
Once, he had even witness Bronn punching a soldier out of his stupor, but he obviously wouldn't try that with her. So he just squeezed her hand more strongly as if to encourage her, "You're not alone, you hear? I am here and ...hmmm... this isn't a nightmare." Since that was all he could compare this to, "We're fine. We'll do whatever you want."
Sansa shut her eyes even more strongly as she focused on his words and suddenly, in a flash, she moved, with her free hand she grabbed him between his arm and forearm, where the armor wasn't protecting him. His eyed widened in surprise, which caught her attention since she saw the worry in them, "I'll be fine... just..." she let her words unfinished.
Podrick only held her gaze and didn't move; he realized their physical connection was giving her some sort of assurance. "We've made it this far, we're not giving up halfway..." he just said the first thing that came to mind and she nodded in agreement.
As they held their gaze he couldn't help but notice how clear and vibrant the blue in her eyes was, shining in the daylight and not from a fire. He was annoyed to feel an attraction that he damn well knew was due to these pressing circumstances, and that was not in his place to be feeling. He tried to push that though aside, it's not like it was the time for that sort of things, "Let me help you get on the horse, we'll go around the village and we'll take the King's Road right away."
Sansa nodded, she wouldn't find peace until they put miles between them and this place. She knew that her fears were founded but that they were out of her control. "I'm sorry about this, Podrick." she said as she did what he said and let him help her.
It wasn't the first time she omitted the 'Ser' but he decided to ignore it, "And I'm sorry for insisting, Ma'am." he replied as he handed her one of the blankets to put over herself while he walked on the horse's left side. He didn't think that galloping at a speed would do her or her stomach any good.
Sansa had stopped praying long ago but she found herself bowing her neck under the blanket and begging to continue to go unnoticed, at least in this place.
They marched for a while, Podrick would occasionally look at her, but he only dared ask how she was doing when she came back from under the blanket, realizing that some color had returned to her face.
"...Better now." she answered after swallowing, "You might think that I was overreacting, but you don't know—"
"I do know, Ma'am." He interrupted before she got defensive, "I'm not judging." he said and he noticed she was embarrassed, which apparently made her desist from continuing, "...I've seen even worse reactions from soldiers who have been through hardships." Of course, that was generally frowned upon, but she was a woman and he supposed those perceptions didn't apply to her, "Has it happened before?"
"...A couple of times." she admitted reluctantly, and it was more than a couple.
Podrick realized she didn't like talking about it but he decided to continue as he looked in another direction, "There's medicine for that," he murmured.
Sansa got quite defensive about it and she wanted to answer bitterly that the Maester who gave it to her was probably dead but she didn't, "I know. My Maesters medicate me when it happens." more than medicated her, they put her in a drugged haze, which she didn't appreciate in the days that followed.
That surprised him.
"I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this."
"You've nothing to worry." he said though the thought crossed his mind of at least discussing it with Brienne when they met again, "... I'm sorry that you have to go through that."
She was upset because he wouldn't drop it so she sought his eyes and in them she saw that he meant it, he was sorry, she frowned confused, "Yes, I'm sorry too." Seeing that she made him feel bad with her acerbic response she went on, "I'm sorry Podrick, I just don't like talking about it..." she was hard to get along with and she knew it. He nodded and something told her she should continue, "I appreciate everything you've done for me these past few days... and a few minutes ago."
Podrick couldn't help but feel that sometimes he got on her right side to jump to her wrong one in the blink of an eye, which was starting to bother him, "are you trying to placate me like you do with your subjects Ma'am?" winning him over, manipulating him...because at the end of the day she couldn't afford to have him turn against her, she needed him at least until he got her to safety...
His dry tone made her defensive again, "That's not what I'm doing," was her affronted reply, and that was on her for caring about his feelings, "but if you think that is wh—"
"—I don't know what I think, honestly." he admitted a few seconds after he realized his mistake. It definitely wasn't his place to argue with her, "I apologize for my tone... and my attitude just now. Sometimes I forget my place."
He was Ser Podrick Payne, a Kingsguard who had tried to kiss Sansa Stark, the Queen in the North. They were both struck by the same thought. And they both knew it wasn't only him who had forgotten his place.
For the first time during those days, or even weeks, Sansa was reminded of his place too; he was an unlanded Kingsguard with no other titles, "...in any case, I am grateful," she murmured, "don't doubt that."
Podrick tried not to feel placated by her words but he didn't quite mange it. After some time he spoke again, unable to drop the subject, "...Is that when you drink? When you want to forget it all?" Those were her words, not his, from the night of her attack when he asked her about her drinking.
Sansa sighed ashamed, "What part of I don't want to discuss it don't you understand?"
That answered his question, "I just want to help, Ma'am."
"You are helping right now by rescuing me. The rest doesn't concern you."
After a long time, when they were sure they had left that village behind, Podrick heard movements on his right and turned, but the horse was tall enough that he couldn't see beyond it. Suddenly, it whined and stood on its hind legs; Podrick saw Sansa disappearing followed by a loud smack on the grass as then the horse was running away at a frightened gallop.
"What did you bring us?" He heard.
Sansa only became aware of the situation when it was already too late; from the corner of her eye, she saw something moving but she wasn't able to react before someone grabbed her strongly from the waist and pulled her off the horse, throwing her on the ground with all their force.
As her head bounced on the ground and inside the helmet, she saw her attacker's feet, and as she tried to stand a blow to her back that made her cry out sent her down. Immediately after, another scream was heard and she saw the feet faltering backwards; with difficulty she set her eyes on the action and watched as Podrick came to blows with her attacker.
In his blind rage, Podrick felt that he was being held by his arms and was forcefully pulled back; he fought against the men, throwing kicks in all directions to try to break free. Suddenly, a painful stab on his side made him stop. The air left his lungs and he was aware of a kick behind his knees that brought him to his knees as he saw her sitting up.
"Traitor!"
He heard the words being yelled but his gaze was on her who was looking at him and at his side in horror. Without thinking, Podrick wanted to touch it, to remove the dagger, but instead he stretched out his arms in surrender, "Stop!" he shouted and fleetingly noticed that whatever stabbed him had broken through the armor, the leather and his skin but that the wound wasn't so bad, which infused him with courage, again.
His shout earned him a few seconds, which he used to stand, "As a Guard of her Majesty, The Queen...I order you to stop!" he could tell that his words were slowly having an effect in the minds of his opponents. He studied the soldiers, Dustin bannermen, as his hand went to his side only to find the dagger gone.
You're not our Queen's Guard, you're not even a Northerner! He felt a blow on the back of his calves that sent him to his hands and knees.
Sansa saw a soldier walking towards Podrick, a knife in hand and a determination on his step that made her understand what was about to happen, "No!" she found herself standing, having taken too much time before reacting, knowing that the second she did she would be making a mistake.
She didn't know how but she threw herself at Podrick as she removed her helmet; even if the men didn't recognize her, she was known to have long red hair, The Queen was called The Red Wolf, so in the pause that followed, as Podrick knelt back up, she placed a protective hand on his shoulder as she used her other had to pull out the rest of her hair from the chain mail and armor in a single painful move.
The men's mouths and stance dropped as they took her in.
Podrick looked around and at her hair waiving in the air in the moments that followed. Then, he stood with difficulty and with her help. "This is your Queen," he proclaimed through the pain, which somewhat lessened the effect of his shout. Still, it was evident that his words had been heard. The look of horror on their faces let him know that these soldiers were loyal to the Crown.
Podrick noticed a group of six people, peasants, suddenly appearing from the trees and bushes, whispering and wondering about what they were seeing but couldn't comprehend. That was good. But not too good since he realized the soldiers still hesitated. "Don't you recognize your Queen?!" he asked angrily as he grabbed the pommel of his sword and unsheathed it.
No one moved.
Everyone was staring at Her Grace with awe and suspicion. But then, one of the soldiers fell to his knees and the others followed; those on horses dismounted them and the peasants bowed to her.
He was standing between her and the bannermen at this point and without taking his eyes off them he spoke over his shoulder, "Are you hurt?" he whispered even though it was a stupid question and she shook her head only to look at his side and ask the same of him, "It's nothing. I'm fine."
Podrick saw that the only person who wasn't kneeling was the soldier who had pulled her off her horse and who had kicked her; the memory alone set him ablaze and in a few long strides he made his way over him to promptly kick and tear him apart. They had made it all this way without a scratch on her; he had made a promise only to have this son of a bitch dare hurt her!
Sansa was shocked to see that no one tried stop Podrick and she was about to take a step towards them but she stopped herself, "Podrick, that's enough!" she said loudly and saw him stopping after a couple more blows to finish destroying the mans' face. He was sitting on the man and panting harshly and she was reminded of Jon. When he turned to look at her she saw him as she had never seen him before, red face, angry and with bloodshot eyes.
The men started to rise, one by one, and more people appeared as the whispering grew louder. "Bring your Lord." Podrick ordered as he rose too after realizing she hadn't because she mistrusted that Lord, but there was nothing else for them to do now. The peasants would be witness to whatever happened from then on.
Sansa gave Podrick a side glance and caught him looking at her worriedly as two men got on their horses and turned before promptly disappearing. "It's a Lady, not a Lord. Lady Barbrey." she corrected.
As some soldiers approached her, Podrick felt her grabbing him over the armor at his forearm, she was nervous but she wasn't backing away from them so he instinctively stepped in, closing the distance between them, and the thought of stepping in front of her promptly left him as her rear would be exposed.
"...I am sorry, My Queen, we didn't know it was you. You're wearing the uniform that was described to us as belonging to your attackers, we thought you were one of them..." all of the soldiers nodded along, "When we saw you, we thought your Guard was bringing you as a prisoner... that's why we didn't attack him at first, we wanted revenge for what they did to you and your retinue. And then he attacked. Forgive us, please."
A distrustful Sansa studied her surroundings as she accepted the apology absent mindedly, "Your name?" she asked the man who evidently was in charge of the squad.
His head remained down as he answered, "David Fields, Your Grace."
"What do you know of my attackers, mister Fields.?"
"Most of them were captured. But the search continues."
"Why did they attack me?"
"...We haven't received those details."
Podrick knew that the injury on his side wasn't major, a graze at best, at worst a couple of stitches would fix it. At least it hadn't touched any internal organs because that's what he feared at first; a lung. The wound in his arm had reopened, though; he felt it stinging but thanks to the tourniquet there was no blood dripping from it yet.
Someone extended a flagon towards them along with an apple that seemingly appeared out of thin air. Out of courtesy, he was about to receive the flagon but she held him tighter, stopping him from reaching out.
Sansa didn't feel like she should be giving out explanations for her mistrust to the men, "Send ravens immediate to the commander of my army, to Winterfell, King's Landing and to the Knights of the Vale." Though she doubted the ravens would catch up with the latter.
Podrick saw that as soon as she spoke, another two soldiers disappeared from view.
"I need two horses," Sansa said pretending to find her footing, showing no sign of doubts or weaknesses. Without missing a beat she turned to Podrick, "Take me to Goldgrass."
"Please accompany us to Barrow Hall, Ma'am," asked Fields, "You'll be safe and comfortable there, ma'am. We'll be honored to host you." he dared make the offer in his Lord's stead.
"I'll only feel safe and comfortable once I'm back at Winterfell." she revealed something that was true as she realized they were bringing the same horse that they had been riding in their journey, and she chose it for herself while Podrick got one from the bannermen. "At the moment I don't know who to trust, mister Fields. Even if you personally guarantee my safety." as expected, he didn't because it wasn't his place to make those assurances.
She got on the horse and felt a jolt of pain going through her back and she waited for Podrick to get on as well, and she studied his movements to see how bad his injuries were. Once he was back at her side, she addressed the bannerman again, "I'll wait for Lady Barbrey at Goldgrass so that she pledges herself to me once more." She could feel Podrick's eyes on her with each word as they started the ride. The soldiers that surrounded her made her nervous; they could be there to protect or attack her.
"...Lady Barbrey is currently in Dorne, Your Grace."
Hearing that settled her nerves, but she didn't want to show it. "Who is in charge, then?"
"Her right hand, Lord Harwood Stout, but, if you will, at the moment we're hosting Lord Wyman Manderly. We understand that he's one of your most trusted allies. He's been concerned over your disappearance, Ma'am."
The peace of mind that the news brought was immediate, she felt relieved, even happy, but again, she didn't intend to show them that. She looked to Podrick and she nodded subtly. They could trust Lord Manderly.
Podrick understood very well why she wanted to stop at Goldgrass and not Barrow Hall. She wanted to be seen, to parade about the village because that would cement her safety; if anything were to happen to her, the people would know that she had been betrayed at Barrow Hall.
Seeing that Lord Manderly's presence pleased the Queen, Fields continued, "Lord Manderly had accident a few weeks ago on a ride, but he wanted to depart for Torrhen Square as soon as he heard about the attack, Your Grace. The Maesters stopped him from leaving but he sent his banners to offer help to your army. He's been getting information about what's going on, he'll inform you of everything."
She wouldn't expect less from Lord Manderly, "I still want Lord Stout to guarantee my safety, as per his pledge to me..." she realized that her mistrust to his Lord was taken badly and he looked at her with some contempt, she was careful that her next words didn't come out as cold, "…You can see why I have a reason to doubt, can you, mister Fields?"
He sat straighter, acknowledging his place and still in disbelief at being in the presence of The Queen, talking to her, let alone being addressed by name, so he smiled empathetically, "Of course, Ma'am. I can only imagine the horrors you've been through in the past few days."
She bowed her head, "Thank you for your understanding, that's very kind of you."
"That's the least you deserve, Ma'am, after the atrocious mistake we made with you."
From the side, she noticed Podrick paying full attention, making note of what she had just done. And Podrick couldn't help but be amazed at her skills in turning people to her convenience. It bothered him too, it made him wonder if she had ever used those tricks on him and he hadn't realized it.
As they rode through the street, Podrick felt like the center of attention. The people seemed to be aware of what had transpired and of who she was because he noticed some people bowing down their heads others kneeling, some indifferent and the children excited.
When they made it to the tavern where he had been earlier in the day, it was emptied in seconds; she was escorted to the best table and food of all kinds was placed before them without having ordered. The only thing she touched was a glass of water that she never even brought to her lips while she proceeded to tell him, in a hushed tone, why she mistrusted the lady of these lands.
Since the moment that the men had knelt, Podrick noticed that little by little her self assurance was coming back and now, as the people recognized her, she seemed to take ownership of herself.
He knew she was up to something when she asked him to switch seats and sit right beside her, which he did while blushing, and then she asked Fields and his men to join them at the table for the honor of dining with her, it'd be a shame to waste all this food, she said and he knew she was doing this to win them over and thus cement their loyalty to her over the loyalty they owed their lords.
Neither touched their food and the men seemed to take notice, "I was at this very tavern gathering information not two hours ago." Podrick explained to Fields, "I had something to eat and I brought back some food to Her Grace."
She wasn't aware it was here where he got the food earlier, "Don't worry, please help yourselves." Sansa said gesturing to the plates.
As expected, the men proceeded to fill their bellies and more than once he caught her staring at the small dent on the side of his armor "I'm fine, Ma'am, don't worry. Your workers make good armor." If he was in pain it was because he was still wearing it, the weight was putting pressure on the injured side. "I'm concerned about you and how that animal beat you." She immediately threw a glance at the soldiers, as if worried that his words would turn them against her.
"...Please excuse my guard's words." she told them. "And worry not; your fellow soldier will not be further punished." After a few moments her eyes searched for Podrick's, "I'm fine, Ser Podrick, just a bit hurt. But fine." she bowed her head and her eyes rose signaling for him to behave.
When they heard a carriage getting near, the soldiers stood and Podrick left his place beside her as well. 'What is he doing here?' he heard one of the soldiers ask in a whisper and he peaked out to see a bearded, robust old man, Lord Manderly, accompanied by another old man and a young woman along with dozens of bannermen from both houses. 'Did you really think he wasn't going to come to see The Queen in person?' another soldier asked. Podrick saw the man barely managed to get out of the carriage to then slowly and with difficulty make his way to her with the help of a cane.
He was a silent witness of her introduction to the old man, Lord Stout, who she had actually met already and who spoke on behalf of Lady Barbrey when he offered Barrow Hall to host them over the following days. Along with all the security she thought necessary.
When Lord Manderly greeted the Queen he seemed genuinely happy and excited to see her, almost moved to tears and Podrick could see the tension starting to leave her as a smile graced her face when she addressed the man, her frown also seemed to disappear and her shoulders dropped down as she lowered her defenses.
The young woman that accompanied them was Lord Manderly's granddaughter, Wylla, who greeted the Queen as though they were old acquaintances and took her hands encouragingly; it was the first show of affection from someone to her that he had seen in the near three months he had been by her side.
He was introduced to the Lords as Ser Podrick Payne, the Kingsguard and Knight who protected her all the way to this place. And for the first time in seven years he felt validation from his work as a Kingsguard, something that secretly thrilled him when Lord Manderly, Lord Stout and even the soldiers gave him heartfelt thanks and acknowledgements.
Lord Stout shook his hand while Lord Manderly even lifted him from the ground in a hug as his granddaughter complained he was going to hurt himself and, for an old man, he was quite strong. The soldiers laughed and patted him on the back. For those short seconds, he preened like a peacock, he was elated. Lady Wylla bowed her head to him, but as soon as his eyes met the Queen's he realized it wasn't the time for all that.
After a few seconds, Lord Manderly apologized and asked Lord Stout to let him have a word with the Queen in private but seeing the way she looked at the guard he didn't ask him to leave them as well.
They talked about what would happen next, the Lord understood her misgivings about staying at Barrow Hall until her army arrived. And he tried to make her see reason telling her a Maester should look at her before leaving for Winterfell. Besides, Barrow Hall was halfway between her army and the Knights of the Vale. And he would make his servants and bannermen available to her to make her feel even safer.
"Anything we can do for you, My Queen." Wylla, added.
Her acquiesce took Podrick by surprise since he figured she would rather stay at an inn in town, but then, she probably wouldn't want to stay at an inn ever again, even with all the servants and security offered by Lord Manderly. He decided to intrude in the conversation so he cleared his throat as he stepped closer to the table, "I'm sorry for interrupting, my Lord, but how far are we from Torren Square and Her Grace's army?"
"If they get organized and start marching once they receive the raven, I daresay they'll be here in a little over a day. No more than a day and a half."
That wasn't too bad. He looked up to see Her Grace standing and Lord Manderly followed suit with his granddaughter's and his help. They were being guided to the carriage when she stopped suddenly as though she had walked into a door, and Podrick turned to her, quickly taking her by the arm, "Ma'am?"
"Ma'am?" Lord Manderly asked worriedly too.
There isn't enough room on the carriage, was the only thing her mind screamed at her, her heart beating fast, filled with fear and mistrust, "...Ser Podrick is coming with me." she managed to say and she felt him releasing her as if realizing he shouldn't have touched her in the first place.
He was surprised at her request since that was never the protocol with him, they had never shared a carriage and he had always ridden beside it but at the moment he didn't refuse or made excuses because he wouldn't feel comfortable being apart from her either, they didn't know what could happen.
Lord Stout wanted to kick himself since it was obvious he was the odd man out. Lord Manderly wasn't in any condition to ride and his granddaughter was a woman, "Don't worry, Your Grace, I'll ride with the soldiers." She nodded and showed her gratitude by letting him help her getting on the carriage, after her, several soldiers helped Lord Manderly and his granddaughter.
Podrick looked into the carriage and he saw that the only place available was next to her, he silently got inside and realized Lord Manderly and his granddaughter were taken aback by their appearance. "I apologize for the state in which we're going to leave your carriage, my lord." They were dirty from head to toe while the interior of the carriage was pristine.
Always proper and polite, making people like him on the spot, Sansa thought.
"Oh, don't worry, it isn't ours."
Podrick grinned at that.
"Wylla!" Lord Manderly scolded her for her jest.
Sansa heard Wylla laughing and it made her smile tiredly until she noticed, not without some disappointment, that Wylla and Podrick were exchanging conspiratorial grins. She tried to dismiss the feeling that invaded her and turned to Lord Manderly, "My Lord, do you really think it's prudent to trust Lord Stout, his men and servants where we are staying?"
"I understand your reasons to mistrust, Ma'am, but don't." The horses marched forwards.
The only thing Sansa trusted was in Lord Manderly's adoration for his granddaughter and that he would never let her be present if he was up to something against the Crown, or that he would have her under the same roof as Lord Stout if he doubted the man's integrity.
Wylla couldn't help but take notice how haggard Sansa was, the bags under her eyes, her filthy and tangled hair, her dirty face and clothing, she didn't look at all like a Queen, not that it mattered because what was worse was how terribly concerned she was, "Quite the adventure you had, Ma'am." I can't wait to hear all about it."
Through the window, Sansa was giving a fake smile to a girl that was waving at her, "Of course, Lady Wylla," she replied but instead of looking at her she fixed her eyes on the lady's grandfather, "but I would also like to hear about the state of my men, Lord Manderly. This attack against me won't go unpunished."
"Of course not, Your Grace, The North Remembers." Lord Manderly assured her and then started talking without the secrecy kept in front of the soldiers, "they have extracted information from the captured enemies... it all seems to point to an attack coming from a small number of lords from right here in the North, Ma'am. The scroll didn't mention their names, but that's what your army and my bannermen informed me."
Sansa had gone over that possibility already, over every possibility, "How many losses did we suffer?"
He shook his head, "Forty-three men, Ma'am, three advisors, two maids, four guards, twenty-five soldiers including one of your brother's men and nine inn workers including the owners." her eyes glazed over and she fell silent with the news.
The ride took over half an hour, the motion made him sleepy but Podrick was wrought with sadness over his fallen friend. He also started hearing an incessant dripping noise and he hid his arm from Lord Manderly and Her Grace so they wouldn't notice the growing puddle of blood from his arm, though he was aware that Lady Wylla did notice.
When they finally reached their destination they studied their surroundings and realized that, it wasn't too large a keep but not particularly small either.
They followed Lord Manderly through corridors and halls until they reached a big room were all the soldiers, inhabitants and servants of the keep were waiting for them to offer their services to the Queen.
Again, they were guided through corridors until they reached the guests wing where Sansa told Lord Manderly that it wasn't necessary for him to vacate the main guest room and give it to her since she wasn't planning to spend too much time in the place. She'd be gone as soon as her army arrived, so he shouldn't bother.
Podrick stood before the door of her room watching as a parade of maids came and went organizing and supplying what was needed, along with Lady Wylla who was helping her —with a couple of maids— to unclasp and untie the cords of the armor, which took them quite a while since they weren't used to the contraption; Podrick knew it would be inappropriate to offer his help, or to let them know that he had already helped her take off the armor once.
The Maesters arrived minutes later and a tub was carried inside along with buckets of hot and cold water. Every muscle in his body ached from the thought of how comfortable and relaxed she was about to be. She looked over at him a few times, and almost immediately after she whispered something to Lord Manderly's granddaughter, one of the Maesters asked him to follow him, which made him throw her a glance and she nodded her permission to leave her.
He followed the man until they reached the hall of the Maesters, a long way across and under the castle. His thighs and butt were contracting from pain and his back was killing him. When the maester pointed to a wooden table, he sat on it thinking of the feather bed she would soon be enjoying. He didn't like being so far away from her.
"Show me the wound." The maester told the Kingsguard.
Podrick started taking off the armor and not for the first time remarked on how filthy, bloodied and sweaty his clothes were. When he uncovered the bloodied wound on his arm, the maester studied intently and nodded in approval of the paste he had put on it, "I'm more worried about an infection than the broken stitches." The maester had him hop off the table and guided him to a window where the light let him take a better look as he cleaned the wound.
"Her Grace didn't mention you had broken stitches," he remarked.
"I didn't have the time to tell her."
He nodded, "There doesn't seem to be an infection but I'll give you medicine for that... and about stitching you up, do you want something for the pain?"
Podrick nodded; there was no harm in taking something to dull the pain.
As the maester was stitching him back up, two soldiers from House Dustin and a third from House Manderly entered; they wanted him to tell them all the events that transpired in order to let her army know through ravens as to prepare them for what could happen on the road.
Podrick was hesitant and told the truth; she hadn't authorized him to share the information.
"She's the Queen, but she's a woman. She doesn't know strategy."
Podrick and the Commander of the Manderly army exchanged a look and he could tell the man wasn't pleased about the comment either, "Regardless, she's the Queen and I take my orders from her," he answered.
"But she's not your Queen." One of the men objected.
"I'm still at her service." he looked to the Maester and he gestured to the other wound on his side, "I don't think I should be concerned about that one."
The man looked over the injury quickly, "you shouldn't." But I'll clean and wrap it."
Podrick ignored most of the questions coming from the soldiers and once he was free to join her he went to see Lord Manderly, "If I may, I'd like a word in private, my lord," he requested receiving a look of reproach because of his state, "the maester was tending to my wounds..." he explained.
"Ser Podrick, your face seems familiar, have we met before?" he pointed to a table where there was a jar of wine and a few cups. "I'd stand myself but the maesters insist I shouldn't be moving about. I may pay later for my display of gratitude to you."
Podrick smiled and refused the wine, thanking him and telling him they knew each other from afar from the time he had spent at Winterfell. After a moment where he failed to see a sign of recognition on the man's part he proceeded to tell him the reason for his visit, "My Lord, I'm here because I'm concerned about something I didn't share with Her Grace because I didn't want to worry her." That got the man's full attention. "When we were attacked, things happened too quickly but one of the things I noticed was the small number of men present to defend the Queen. I might be wrong and they could have been inside the inn, but it didn't feel like it when our forces were so easily overwhelmed."
"…You're right, Ser Podrick," Lord Manderly agreed finding it odd that the guard wasn't aware of things, "but don't fear foul play. It was just an error in judgment by the commander of the army."
He gestured at the young man to hand him another cup of wine as he talked, "half of the maids wanted to leave after they heard of the state of the next Keep in the tour, they wanted to make sure that at least the Queen's rooms were up to her standards. Twenty men left with them; they thought they'd be back before she woke up. That was a fatal mistake."
And someone would pay for it. Podrick nodded in understanding, "...but isn't it too convenient that they left on that precise night, my lord?"
"Of course it is, Ser Podrick. That's the first thing that the army investigated but it appears to be a terrible coincidence."
"Hmmm..." Podrick mumbled, not wanting to doubt but still doing it.
He made his way to her room almost an hour after first leaving. He hesitated before knocking on the door because the last thing he needed was to stand guard at her door like an idiot to later realize that she was somewhere else, it wouldn't be the first time.
He was surprised to find her opening her own door instead of a maid; she looked pristine in a robe, which he found odd because he didn't think she would be getting ready for bed but dressed to have a meeting with Lord Manderly and the bannermen of both houses.
He inhaled and took a whiff of the smell of rose water coming from her wet hair. "I just wanted to make sure you still were here, Ma'am." Oddly, she seemed a little bit shorter than him and when he looked down he saw her wearing a plain pair of slippers with no heels or platforms.
She nodded, "Not for long. We'll have a meeting in two hours." She noticed someone had probably given him something to wear and that he had cleaned up a little but not much since he still had dirt and grease on him, and she could smell sweat, blood and musk on him and she was reminded that she hadn't been any better minutes before. "What did the maesters say?"
Seeing her giving him a quick once over and her scrunching her nose subtly, he was struck even more by how clean she was compared to how terribly filthy he was. "Nothing to worry about... some stitches had broken and they fixed them."
"Beating that soldier the way you did will bring some political consequences with Lady Barbrey," she hadn't dealt much with the woman and on top of it she was making herself at home in her house, if she wanted to give her trouble she would at the slightest provocation.
"Only if she wants to fight over nothing. I'm here to protect you and I think I was doing a fine job of it until that soldier hurt you." he couldn't help his wondering eyes from traveling to the comfortable bed and to the table where a jug of wine and an almost empty plate were resting, "With all due respect, no one is going to blame me for beating him to a pulp." But seeing that she was so worried about the consequences he would go to talk to the soldier with someone else to witness him taking responsibility for his actions.
Seeing the look on his eyes, she went to fill a cup for him and after realizing that he always was mindful of protocols, she went back to the door and handed it to him.
He wouldn't refuse a cup of wine from her, though he knew he should. "Did that soldier hurt you badly, ma'am? Tell the truth."
It was hurting, and she figured that she'd get a big bruise even tending the site with the compresses that the maester had suggested, "I won't be wearing a bodice in the next days," she commented and she saw a flicker of anger go through his eyes as he finished the wine in two big gulps.
He would rather focus on the flavor of the wine than on the anger he felt when he saw her being attacked in front of him, "It was quite ironic that we made it all this way with you unharmed only to have that m—"
Sansa shook her head, "—let's not think about that." she said, and she included herself because whether she wanted it or not, the thought brought on the reminder of past beatings. She went on without giving him time to react to her words and pointing to his arm, "What about infection?" after all, he had been very worried about that.
He didn't reply right away but he didn't change the subject because he wanted to see what she was after. He showed her a vial with a mix of herbs he could use to put on the wound, "all is well." he thought about something as he handed her the cup back, "the Maester and a couple of soldiers were impressed with your stitches. They said that if you did that in a rush, they'd like to see what you were capable of with more time and training.
His words amused her enough to give him a tired grin. She took a step out her room and pointed to the next door on her left, "I'm not going to have you guard my door, I'm sure you're as tired as I am but I would feel better knowing you're sleeping next door."
Feeling surprised grateful and a bit embarrassed, he bowed his head, "Thank you, Ma'am."
"It's the least I can do for you, Ser Podrick. But I'm going to ask you to accompany me to the meeting as a last favor today."
"It hadn't even occurred to me not to." And that was the truth.
"Then go and get some rest. We'll talk later about how to reward you for all your services."
Such a simple, common phrase suddenly took on a completely different meaning.
Podrick tried to get that almost-kiss from his head, and even more than kissing, so he bowed to her before taking his leave. He entered his room and took it in; it was just like hers, there was a jug of wine, a plate covered by a cloche, a tub with hot water from the look of it and clean clothes on the bed... and of course, the bed!... a smile broke on his face as he started taking off his dirty rags.
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They silently made their way to the meeting hall of the keep.
Sansa felt awkward. She was wearing a beautiful dress that belonged to Lady Wylla; it was green and luxurious with short sleeves that she covered by donning a cloak over it. Her hair was loose and adorned with two thin braids that started at the temple and were joined behind her head. When she looked in the mirror before leaving the room, she saw she was pale, with bags under her eyes, looking tired and gaunt but maybe it was just that the rigidity of her usual outfits and reinforced bodices were gone and it made her seem plain, it made her feel plain, powerless.
She looked more like a defenseless woman than a Queen and she didn't like it.
If Podrick's side glances told her anything, it was that he had also remarked on the change. She looked his way and found him staring at her but then he averted his eyes again and on their way they went.
On her part, she had noticed him wearing clothes that were more fitting for a Lord than for a soldier or bannerman and they looked as though they had been custom made for him, he looked perfect. And he had cleaned up nicely, he had made an effort to look his best; the beard was gone, he had brushed his hair and it was tied behind his head. There were two possible reasons why he trimmed the beard, either he felt that the cold wasn't as biting here as it was in Winterfell or he suspected he'd be back in King's Landing soon.
When they had met on her doorstep they both had been taken aback by the other's appearance, not believing their eyes and it had been Lady Wylla who had cleared her throat broking the spell so that they wouldn't stay standing there looking at each other like idiots. After the trance was broken, Podrick stepped back and gestured with his arm for them to go ahead.
As they walked, Sansa couldn't help but look at Lady Wylla who threw her a glance at the same time along with a complicit smile that let her know she wasn't the only one who noticed how handsome Podrick was. But Wylla wasn't invited to that meeting so she eventually left them and she and Podrick continued on their own and side by side.
"Do you feel comfortable, Ma'am, with us staying here?" he looked at her intently, studying her. At the moment, he was reminded of the days when they had first made it to Castle Black; she was displaying a natural beauty, a beauty that felt to him even more painfully appealing than her usual regal posturing. At the moment, she didn't seem that unattainable to someone like him.
"...I think so." She admitted as she held his gaze, "Lord Manderly has always been a good man to me and my family." He wasn't making an effort not to look at her openly so she blushed from the feel of his eyes staring at her face intently, which made her break the gaze to look at the path ahead, "…but ask me again after this meeting."
Podrick nodded, "...I will." he studied her further and noticed her blush at his attention, but he didn't let himself grin out of respect, "All will be well, Ma'am." he said in a sort of apology for making her feel uncomfortable.
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Once again thanks to fangfaceandrea for the translation!