Chapter 8: Chapter 8

The next morning, after being unable to find restful sleep, Podrick rose before sunup to join the soldiers in their morning training session; he actively participated when the moves weren't too demanding on his injured arm and side. After running several laps around the yard while the soldiers did push-ups, he let the Commander of the Dustin army convince him to spar together.

Podrick was very aware that everyone doubted his abilities as a warrior but truthfully, even though he wasn't as outstanding as Ser Brienne, Jaime Lannister, Barristan Selmy or Jon Snow, Brienne had taught him very well in the art of swordplay and the various you have improved but there is still a long way to go, he received from herwere a high bar for his mentor. And after sparring with someone other than Brienne, he came to find that he was in fact quite a good swordsman.

The wound he sustained was on his left arm so it only stopped him from moving more gracefully, as did the wound on his right side, but he made an effort to show his skills to the Commander and he did even if he couldn't attack as he would have wanted, he managed to dodge and block all the attacks against him. He could see the man starting to break a sweat and getting more and more frustrated.

Of course, eventually the weight of the sword started to bother him and he had to stop the sparring session when he felt a pressure on his back that reached his upper back, "...I apologize, my injuries are very recent and I think I'm overdoing it." He explained breathlessly. The man looked at him intently before patting him on the shoulder.

Podrick saw the commander of the Manderly army walking towards them so he checked his arm and announced loudly that he thought he had broken a stitch, which stopped the man in his tracks before even asking him to spar with him. "If you are still in Winterfell for the next meeting of lords, we'll train together."

Podrick nodded to the man, doubting such a day would come, "Of course."

It was past mid-morning when he went back to his assigned room; he walked quickly keeping his head low, feeling ashamed of parading through the castle's private apartments in filthy clothes. He was surprised to see guards by her door, who told him she was still resting, which he found odd because in Winterfell she used to be up by dawn. And while they weren't in Winterfell, they had been at the fort for some days so it was expected that she would go back to her routine, "Has anyone checked in on her?" he didn't know why his initial reaction was to be suspicious.

"... Of course, just a while ago someone brought out the breakfast tray."

At the moment Podrick wasn't over mistrusting the words, he was being quite paranoid. Even as he mentally kicked himself, he opted not to believe her own guard and he knocked on the door.

Lady Wylla opened the door a moment later taken aback and visibly disapproving of his muddy state but his attention wasn't on her, it was on Her Grace, who was sitting before a mirror as a young lady brushed her hair. She looked his way, curious as to who had been knocking and Podrick felt his throat tighten once her pretty features sharpened as soon as she recognized him.

Was that anger in her eyes for leaving her alone the previous night? Yes, definitively.

But he also noticed how her cheeks redden just as Lady Wylla blocked her from his sight as she protectively closed the door leaving it ajar. He blushed as well, "...I...I just...I just wanted to make sure that... hmmm... that Her Grace was alright." That wasn't a lie. He cleared his throat and tried to keep looking the Lady in the eye but his mind remained fixed on Her Grace. He fleetingly wondered if she was already aware of his reputation and what she might have said to The Queen regarding her...friendship with him.

She studied the man, her eyes going from head to toe remarking on the fact that she was making him uncomfortable. Not a few minutes ago she had been tried to convince Her Grace not to offer him preferential treatment over her own guards, to make him leave the room next door to join the rest of the soldiers but the Queen had emphatically refused stating that she wasn't about to be ungrateful and adding, with some gall,that Wylla shouldn't concern herself; she wasn't going to sneak him in her room again.

"...The Queen will be resting for a bit longer before going down to welcome the Knights of the Vale," she let him know and he bowed his head to leave before she dismissed him. After shutting the door she turned to see the Queen with her head bent forward as Lady Lehna braided her hair. "That was Ser Podrick checking on you, my Queen." The Queen simply nodded but the young lady's smirk caught her attention and she raised a brow at her.

"...Ser Podrick is handsome and gallant," she noticed that Lady Wylla didn't offer back a complicit smile as she usually did to show her agreement in such matters. She didn't elaborate as to why she was wrong either, which was unusual too.

Lady Wylla looked to the Queen but saw no reaction on her part to those words, just an air of disinterest, "Lady Lehna, may I remind you, we are not in the presence of my sister but of the Queen in the North."

She blushed in embarrassment "I'm sorry, my lady. My Queen, I didn't... I didn't mean–"

Sansa sighed, "It's alright, Lady Lehna. There's nothing to worry about... actually, if you ever come to Winterfell, remind me to introduce you to Lady Rose, I suspect the two of you would get along rather well."

Lady Wylla noticed that Lady Lehna was still embarrassed and as she passed her by, she put a hand on her shoulder as to comfort her, she just had to remember that she was in front of the Queen and not talk to her like they were old friends, "Those girls talking about handsome men nonstop? I can feel a headache coming already." she said to the Queen, making her smile.

Podrick retired to his room thankful for the break Her Grace had afforded him for the day, more than willing to enjoy the luxuries that came with such a room. There was warm water in the tub and food on the table. He chose to take a bath first and after eating he laid his beaten body on the world's most comfortable featherbed. The Queen was a constant on his mind, a shadow that wouldn't leave him even though he tried, and failed, to cast her away.

When he saw her again, she was looking better; more like the Queen she was and a part of him found ridiculous the notion that her army had gone to the trouble of carrying her trunks and chests with her entire array of clothing, but he assumed that with her being a woman it would be essential. She was wearing one of those dark, elaborate dresses that, along with the leather armor on her torso, cut an impressive and rigid figure, one that was distant and cold. When she threw a fleeting glance at him it hit him hard, his heart set off as he felt no small amount of intimidation, and worse than that, attraction.

Had he looked at her before and found her to be as painfully gorgeous as he did now while she stood there looking so regal? He definitively hadn't.

And to add kindle to fire, during the past days he hadn't seen her as happy as she did when she saw Lord Royce dismount his horse and come toward her.

.

.

.

Later that night, Podrick found himself unable to sleep; after a while of trying but failing to do so, he decided to leave his room. He was alarmed when, as soon as he came out into the hallway he saw no guards standing by her door so he approached it and he knocked softly but got not answer in return... He dared to open it and found the room empty but he didn't worry, he figured she would be having a meeting with Lord Royce...it might be quite late but the circumstances were unusual and grave.

He opted for going on a cold walk as he thought about the nonexistent news from Kings Landing. Would it be too much to ask to be ordered not to go back to Winterfell with the Queen and to immediately set out southward instead? He climbed to the top of one of the walls and greeted the soldiers standing guard that he met along the way.

In all honesty, he knew he was making too much out of the sudden attraction he was feeling for her and he wondered if she was too, since it seemed to him that his interest was requited, which only made it worse.

He felt a kind of unreal sense of victory at the thought, though; after all, she was Sansa Stark! …So beautiful and unattainable.

A mutual attraction made it impossible for him to immediately shut down the possibility as he had been doing for over a decade. Right now he was enjoying playing out the fantasy of that unlikely possibility.

The sense that it was mutual made him enjoy throwing her off balance, making her blush and making her nervous when he had called her gorgeous...

His mind was uselessly going in circles knowing that nothing but a few heated looks between them and a great deal of temptation would come of this. But this was reality, not a fantasy.

He was startled when, after a while, he heard a noise behind him only to find her coming to his side.

What was she doing? He wondered nervously when he realized that she had asked her guards for some space. Podrick swallowed as his heart sped up, he felt nervous and hot, "have you exchanged correspondence with your brother on these past few days, ma'am?" he asked as if to make nothing of the fact that she bothered to come and join him.

Sansa stepped beside him, looking down at the bailey and finding nothing but darkness and shadows under them, "...don't worry, Ser Podrick, as soon as we reach Winterfell you'll be free to go back to Bran's side." That was something she wanted too, but she couldn't hide the displeasure in her voice. And she knew the logistics were absurd; going to Winterfell first and then back south... but she wanted him beside her, escorting her back home until she was completely safe.

The ice in her voice had him struggling to form words, she really hadn't appreciated him leaving her by herself the night before, "Don't take it the wrong way, ma'am, what I wanted to know... what I keep wondering is, now that things happened... has he said more about the attack?...did he know you'd be fine in the end?"

"I know Bran enough to know that he won't answer those questions. Besides, there are no ravens trained to fly to King's Landing from here. It's more likely that you'll be the one asking him directly..." because of that, because he would soon vanish from her life she had decided to run with her curiosity, "In which case you'll have to promise that you'll send a raven with any information you manage to get out of him."

"I promise, Ma'am." He breathed out, the tension between them had never been there before and it made him uncomfortable. He threw a sideway glance at her and since she didn't go on, he did, "...I'm really going in circles with this, I mean, did he see that you were alone in his dream and that's why he sent me or did he see that I was already with you?" he turned to see her gaze lost in the horizon and he took in her profile for a second. Why had the King sent him anyway? Was he aware of what was happening between them right then?

"I'm as lost as you are, Ser Podrick. I'm trying not to think about it. To pay mind to what matters most." she turned to look at him, her heart was racing and thrumming through her body in anticipation of her request but it felt like an eternity, she could find neither the courage nor the words to ask. She would have thought that fighting with herself and her fears had been enough but apparently it wasn't; the embarrassing prospect of asking him for a kiss was worse.

"Did I mention that I didn't see the green door at first?" they had talked very little those first days while on the run and he couldn't remember addressing it on the third day. He threw a sideways glance to see her shaking her head, sighing as she lowered her head then looking back into the distance. He also noticed that she was gripping the wall's banister with her hands. "I saw something moving from the corner of my eye ... something like your skirt flapping in the wind and when I checked and got close enough to that house I saw three ravens flying away. And there it was. The Green Door."

That was certainly Bran... which didn't surprise her. "I doubt you saw my skirt flapping in the wind. I was soaking wet." she briefly wondered if Bran had been with them at other times in their journey. If he was there right at that moment, if he knew about her predicament about Podrick, if this is what he meant to trigger by sending him.

Sadly, her brother was one of the few people of whom she didn't know what to expect.

Podrick unwittingly turned to look at her, this time his eyes didn't stay fixed on her face and instead they traveled her body. For just a few seconds he imagined himself standing behind her, his arms circling her small waist as his nose and mouth caressed her neck, her jaw, her cheek, dreaming that she would let him do it as they both joked and whispered silly things to each other.

He was and idiot for thinking those things.

"Isn't that bodice hurting you?" he asked absentmindedly and he found himself on the receiving end of a shocked look. He was immediately chastised, "a few days ago you said that it felt good not to wear those because of your back." He would have liked not to notice that she wasn't wearing them, but that particular article of clothing and the armor she wore tended to enhance her figure. "...I'm just saying it can't be comfortable..."

At first a part of her was appalled at the question because he was asking about an undergarment, something intimate, not something men usually asked about but his winded explanation made her realize her reaction might have been too much. "...I rather feel uncomfortable than unsafe."

After a couple minutes of silence he turned to her once more and she held his gaze, they both visibly blushed, aware of the other's train of thought, but she sighed softly as though something was amiss, which didn't help is emotions one bit. Her eyes went to his lips and rushed back to his eyes. He shook his head slightly, decided to talk and get this over with once and for all. "Ma'am–"

"–Come with me, Ser Podrick," she said and turned without waiting for him as she summoned some courage against the knot on her throat and her hesitation, but she didn't want to miss her chance, she just wasn't sure how to best express what she wanted. It wasn't like her to have all these emotions, least of all the doubt, so to put an end to it, she decided to act.

Podrick was aware that the guards weren't following them as they walked on the opposite direction; back into the castle through a dark, narrow corridor. He couldn't help testing the waters, "…even if your guards are on rotation they'll begin to suspect that something's going on between us if you keep asking for privacy when you are with me." with his heart racing in his chest, he waited a few beats for her to admonish him, to say that nothing was going on but there was only silence. He studied her as she walked decidedly ahead of him; he skirt kept waving from her speed. He was filled with yearning and hesitation. "Where are we going?"

"...I had a sudden urge for wine." That much was true.

Podrick spoke as low as he could, "...We shouldn't be alone," for once he wasn't thinking about the gossip, he was thinking about what could happen once they were.

She was apprehensive and she wanted to back down but she looked over her shoulder feeling her hands cold and shaky, and she gripped her needle, "No, we shouldn't."

She wished to be more upfront with him, to ask him outright if he truly didn't want to be alone with her but her courage was lost between the heaviness in her stomach and her racing heart. She was someone who had been making morally questionable decisions for years and yet it was this situation that was making her hesitant and unable to act.

Podrick was aware that he could be an idiot; that he could be misinterpreting all this but he knew women and he sincerely doubted that he was misreading her signals, even if she was the complete opposite of the women he knew.

He stayed silent while they reached a small room, the same room where he had talked with Lord Manderly. She strode to a corner of the room and came back with a bottle and two cups, she handed him the bottle so that he'd open it. "Whatever you're thinking, Ma'am, no," he warned.

She found herself blushing even more and smiling, probably from the nerves, "...You don't know what I'm thinking."

He looked down at her hands to see them shaking, "I might have an idea," she mistook his glance at her hands in a silent request for the cups so she handed them to him, "I might be wrong." he finished as she sat at the table and while he did the same, he noticed she downed the wine in just a few gulps. He refilled her cup and did the same with his.

She was aware that he wasn't comfortable either, which she found odd what with his reputation, and for the first time, it struck her that maybe because of that reputation he was assuming that she wanted much more that she actually did. Summoning courage from somewhere unknown, she tried to explain herself even as she blushed profusely, "Just a kiss... nothing more," she felt breathless, "not two or three...just one."

Shit, the triumphal feeling that coursed through him when he heard that made him grin like a fool on instinct and as soon as he realized what he was doing he tried to erase the smile from his face but he wasn't quite able to. It wasn't like he was hoping for more than a few kisses but having proof of it was...he had no words to describe it.

She swallowed as she noticed that he was pleased but remained silent, "I know this is bold of me but I remember you asking me to be real with you..."

Podrick took a deep breath, "You're an incredibly beautiful woman, Ma'am but–"

"–But? Jon told me once that everything before a but is...bull." Right then she though it ironic that she couldn't bring herself to swear, that she still clung to her Lady facade despite what she was proposing, "I know you're not indifferent to me..."

No one could be indifferent to her, Podrick smiled awkwardly and as he looked at the table, "Not at all, Ma'am," he looked into her eyes daring to be upfront as upfront with her as she was being, "You are a very beautiful woman. I'd dare say the most beautiful one I've ever met. But, you are also The Queen, and accepting would be disrespectful."

Of course, Sansa had anticipated the possibility of a second refusal but she realized she hadn't come really prepared for it; she took a sip of wine to buy herself some time and to take stock of the multitude of feeling and thoughts currently racing through her mind. "...Or it would be disrespectful to refuse me." She said jokingly, he really knew his place. A place she had somehow forgotten and continued to dismiss.

An amused sigh left Podrick, "Refusing you isn't easy, Ma'am, believe me. You're impressive, gorgeous and your words are tempting and flattering, but I can't accept," they kept their gaze on each other, studying each other. "I'm afraid you might be confused."

She sipped on some wine, "Why confused?"

Podrick placed his hand on the table as he fought the urge to hold hers, "Because what you are feeling might be an illusion. We just came out of a life-or-death situation where we could only rely on each other to survive. That messes with emotions, fleeting new feelings can arise, I can't take advantage of that...even if deep down inside I want to." But a kiss was just a kiss, right? He wouldn't be breaking his oath.

She had considered that, "...I understand very well what you're saying, Ser Podrick, and I respect you for it. And yet..." she licked her lips, "I know what I'm asking sounds bold, and that insisting makes me look bad but I want you to understand something, in confidence; this is the first time in my life that I feel like this," she paused to control her breathing but it didn't work, she had never talked about this with anyone before.

She spoke pausing often, becoming more breathless with each phrase, "For years I've been asking myself if there might be something wrong with me, if my experiences ruined me. If Joffrey, Lord Bolton, Lord Baelish damaged me beyond repair... so, my trusting in you enough to make me feel things that are new and strange to me... to ask for a kiss is not a trivial matter, it doesn't stem from a curiosity to explore a sensation... it's more like trying to find if there's something of the person I once was... trying to find hope to overcome my past..."

It wasn't easy for her to talk about all of this but she soldiered though, "So you can see how I'm not really interested in deciding whether my feelings for you are fleeting...an illusion, as you said."

He remained attentive as she spoke, her eyes kept going from his to the table and back. Podrick couldn't help but feel pity, he believed that he felt and understood what she was saying but he wasn't sure if he should speak his thoughts in regards to her situation, after all she wasn't one of his friends.

Once again, he felt compelled to lower his hand to hers, but it wasn't proper. "If I may, Ma'am, I know it might be inappropriate to talk to you how I'm about to," he paused and leaned a bit forward, "give yourself a chance, don't surround yourself with solitude and trust people... I'm sure you'll discover something to help you... I'm not sure how to put it... carry your burden?"

Neither one seemed to be able to hold the other's eyes, "...That's what I'm doing with you, Podrick." She didn't want to keep on showing him her vulnerabilities or seem like she was pleading, so as to accept his refusal, she was about to thank him for his words, stand and leave but before she made her move, she was stopped on her track by the feel of his hand reaching out and stopping just an inch from hers.

Her eyes fixed on his.

"...If I may..." he said before daring to touch her.

She briefly thought how silly it was that he was asking for permission when she was the one asking for a kiss. But she also remarked on how proper that gesture was, not only because socially she was his better but because of the likelihood of a bad reaction on her part if any other man touched her without her permission. She nodded tentatively and she looked to her own hand seeing how his just reached out and caressed her softly over the glove.

"...I'm not worthy of your attention." he looked at her for a few seconds and then he stopped. He slowly took off his gloves first to let her know of his intentions and when he once again took her hands in his she didn't reject his move; moments later he was caressing her directly on her soft skin, "I don't know what I'm doing, ma'am." He whispered apprehensively as he dragged his thumbs over her knuckles. He had never felt apprehensive with a woman, before.

And her skin was so soft and smooth... He knew he would make a mistake if he looked at her face so he continued focusing on her hands.

"...Well, I know even less." She whispered feeling the heat rising with all the reverence he was displaying as he touched her. Still, he was avoiding looking at her and he made no move to kiss her, which told her that this caress didn't mean his mind had changed. "... I can't remember the last time someone touched me..." after a few second it was her who put her had on top of his and started to stroke him making him gasp, surprised.

"Solitude may only be healed through touch." ...She made no reply; instead, she continued touching him and Podrick got lost in the sensation as it had been a long while since someone had touched him like that too.

Not that he could remember anyone having touched him in such an innocent manner before. He had laid with plenty of women but he had never experienced feeling actual affection from them or for them. Suddenly, his chest constricted, not with desire or pity for her but because of the realization of what she was making him feel; a connection. More than just a connection.

It was either that or he was truly starved for female attention, he told himself somewhat mockingly, just to avoid considering the possibility that he might only be a step away from falling for her.

That would be a mistake.

His thoughts were interrupted when she turned over his hand to caress the callouses on his palm, the contrast against her smooth, lush skin embarrassed him, "It's because of the sword and other weapons," feeling awkward, he took her hands in his again.

Sansa nodded acknowledging the truth in his word; her father's hands were like that, Arya's and Jon's too, Robb's too, most likely, though she didn't remember them... She didn't want to think about her family right then, "Is it true that you keep your vows to my brother?"

Podrick exhaled and dared to seek her eyes, he let out a whine at the intensity of her gaze and he licked his lips, "believe me, Ma'am, if I didn't I would be kissing you."

She didn't quite know why she was smiling, maybe because of the whining in his voice, as though his decision weighted heavy on him, "It's a chastity vote and I'm only asking for a kiss."

She couldn't help but tense up at the seductive tone of her own voice, which surprised her, made her fluster. Her face was burning up, this wasn't like her! One of the hands holding her left her and he rubbed his closed eyes adamantly.

And how could he say no to something like this? "...you're killing me here, Ma'am." Had he ever wanted a kiss as badly as he wanted this one? Again, he lowered his hand to hers trying for nonchalance. "It might be innocent, yes... but not to me. If I'm honest, and to my shame, if I toe this line, I'm afraid I'm going to cross it later on..."

An issue she lacked because to her that was unthinkable, "You do think a lot of yourself, don't you?" she asked, "you won't talk me into more than one kiss, Ser Podrick, believe me."

At that, they smiled at each other. Only one kiss, not two or three. "You know what I meant..."

...Crossing the line later on with a woman who wouldn't set any bounds... the thought didn't upset her or made her jealous, which relieved her; he had sneaked under her defenses but not into her heart.

Rationally, Sansa understood why Podrick was rejecting her, which made the situation more palatable. "...I hate that I'm begging, that's not what I meant to do," she admitted and tried to let go of him, she'd take his touch and this moment with her, but he tightened his hold on her as he shook his head.

"...I don't see it as begging, Ma'am. Quite the opposite, I'm embarrassed to think I'm insulting you with my refusal." He licked his lips and he took a deep breath, "please understand that if I were to accept, I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of your weakness and needs...even more so now I know what a kiss means to you. It wouldn't be right of me to take advantage of this...illusion... I care for you, I respect you... and certain things may be said about me, but I'm not dishonorable."

She would have liked to be unencumbered, to be able to discern whether or not Podrick's words were honest but at the moment she could only see a man trying to be honorable. "...Don't worry, Ser Podrick, I won't insist more. I respect your decision." Foolishly, she was feeling so much disappointment.

All the thought she had given it, all the effort she put into asking him... and for nothing.

Podrick almost thanked her for stopping. He leaned towards the table and he brought her hand to his lips to very respectfully kiss each of her knuckles, taking that for himself, at least, and unknowingly giving her a taste of affection she hadn't experienced before. "In my life, I've never wanted as kiss as badly as I want yours, Ma'am. Just know that." he kissed the back of her hand again before softly placing it back on the table and finally releasing her.

They stayed that way for a few moments, looking at each other before slowly drinking the last of the wine in their cups.

She then put on the glove back without a rush. Did he realize that his affectionate display would cement his presence in her mind?

Right there she was only able to see a great man in front of her, someone she was coming to appreciate more intensely. With fervor and a heaviness that hadn't been there ten minutes ago. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're playing with me."

He saw her eyes grow colder a bit but the way her eyes kept seeking his told him that was just a bluff, "and you with me, Ma'am."

She raised her eyebrows at that as she retracted her arms and sat straighter, going back to her role of Queen, "I'd doubt that, I'm not the one with experience in these matters..." clearly, her words surprised him.

Well, yes... but he couldn't let that slide, "you know how to subtly use your charms, ma'am, even if it isn't on purpose."

She blinked, "You know I wasn't using my charm." instead she was showing him her weakness, the fact that he thought it was calculated felt paradoxical.

He nodded as he stood, knowing that the longer he stayed the easier it would be to go back on his decision, "...and yet, you just made sure to have me eating from the palm of your hands from now on." He certainly wasn't cleverer that those lords she managed to manipulate with a chat, a smile or a dance. After a few seconds without a reply from her, he bowed respectfully, "Shall we go look for the guards, ma'am?"

Sansa shook her head, "I'll stay here for a few more minutes." he was about to argue but she shook her head again, "if you want, you can tell them where I am," she could see that he didn't like leaving her alone for much longer.

Podrick hesitated before he left, "Please don't drink too much." he dared request at last. That was bold of him.

Sansa frowned but as soon as she looked at him she realized that he was concerned because of her issues from the past and from knowing that she sometimes tried to forget them with wine. "Trust me, it doesn't happen often."

He wanted to believe her, "You have had plenty to worry over in the past few days."

"Podrick." Sansa admonished as she lifted her eyes to see him nod, sigh and leave.

Then, she was left in utter silence and solitude. She took a deep breath. She felt so disappointed by how things ended, by his rejection.

"It's for the best," she told herself as she finished the wine and as she tried to find comfort in her solitude, "fewer problems in the long run." Even said out loud, the words did nothing to convince her.

A/N:
Once again thanks to fangfaceandrea for her amazing translation!

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