Part II
It was three days later, while she was still sulking and angry that an intriguing new development took place.
An intriguing scroll coming from Lady Marna reminded her of the existence of the woman who was now urging her to meet at a private and secluded location, and though Sansa felt it could be unwise to agree to the meeting outright, the curiosity had her making arrangements to meet in her own terms.
Winterfell was a castle and as such, it had many passageways and tunnels that she knew about but most people were unaware of and she planned to use them now. So she set-up everything for the meeting; she sent a man to the tavern in Winter town to be on the lookout of one of three empty houses that had tunnels connecting them to Winterfell. Jacob's lieutenant reported the presence of three visitors in town, among them a solitary woman wearing coverage to hide her identity entering the house that had been indicated.
Sansa entrusted Jacob with the information about the secret passage and specified that she wanted him and another guard at the other end of it, ready to act in case she needed them and she went out accompanied by other guards pretending she couldn't sleep and shocking the men posted at the gates since she very seldom left Winterfell. She wore a hood to hide he identity from possible onlookers and she made her way into town with the guards who were also wearing plainclothes. As soon as she got off her horse, she ordered them to stay outside by the door and to be ready to react.
Sansa's plan was simple; if this was a trap, she'd alert her guards who would secure the woman and if, by any chance she had come with more people, other than the two men in her company, her guards would deal with them as she made her escape to Winterfell through the tunnel. Still, she didn't think the Lady was coming to try something sinister, let alone hurt her in her turf.
The woman had been pacing the house when one of the guards opened the door and proceeded to canvass the house in seach for any weapons that the woman may have hiddedn away "My lady, I'll ask that you be quick with this meeting. Its unusual for me and my men to meet someone under these circumstances." Sansa spoke at last as she made her way in.
Lady Marna covered her face nervously when she realized that the Queen meant to let the guard stay inside with them because she didn't want her identity known and she listened to the man turning things over around her, she replied, "What I came here to tell you is a private matter, My Queen."
"This man is sworn to me. I trust him and his silence."
"But your Grace!" she protested, still rattled by the presence of the men. "keeping what I wish to discuss a secret will also benefit you."
That piqued Sansa's interest. She glanced at the Guard who signaled that he hadn't found any weapons and that he was awaiting orders, "Very Well." She gestured at him and so he walked to the door to let the direwolf in before leaving them to their privacy. "Sit, Snow." she ordered before setting her eyes on the lady, "We're alone, now, my lady." The woman uncovered her face to reveal that she was indeed Lady Marna and Sansa fleetingly thought about Arya and her power to become No One. "Don't worry he's trained… I have no reason to mistrust you, Lady Marna, but I'm warning you, if this is some scheme or a trap, I need only to say the word and Snow will attack."
Lady Marna shook her head, "I'm here because of personal reasons, not a plot against you, Ma'am. I swear."
Sansa nodded in acquiescence as she gestured at a chair, "I'm all ears, then."
Lady Marna nodded back as she decided to go straight to the point, "I lied to you two years ago, Ma'am, when I told you that Lord Flint was my father." She immediately realized that the Queen wasn't as surprised as she had thought she would be, "The truth is that over a decade ago it was Lord Flint himself who assured me I am your uncle Brandon's bastard."
Sansa was impassive, "Go on..."
"Please don't mistake me, Ma'am, I'm not here because I want something out of this, on the contrary, I ask for your utmost discretion. I'm here because I have a problem, one that you may use in your favor, Your Grace." If the rumors about her not wanting to marry and start a family were true, in any case, "You've met my daughter; my darling and stupid daughter who recently let herself fall pregnant by one of the soldiers you posted at Crofter's village, Ma'am."
Something was telling Sansa that the woman wasn't here exactly to demand that she punished the soldier but to aid her in protecting her daughter's honor. And that's how the seeds of the idea she had years ago suddenly blossomed; it had been a desperate and absurd idea that only then she realized would do her no good. "You want me to take charge of that child... "
"He'll have your blood..."
Sansa could only close her eyes and rub her forehead. This on top of Lord Humphrey was too much and too fas, "... I will know if you're lying to me, Lady Marna, I have ways to verify if blood ties bind us... that baby and my family." Her tone was laden with threat that she hadn't meant to let out.
"How?" the woman wondered incredulous.
Sansa blinked, not expecting to be questioned, "... Magic." She stated half honestly, "and the blood of the First Men." That part was a lie stemming from something she had heard about Lord Gendry Baratheon and the Red Priest.
Lady Marna nodded doubtful yet aware that it was best not to ask more questions, "What reason would my father have to lie to me on his deathbed?" she asked.
Sansa could understand, "did your mother ever say anything?"
"No. She told me not to listen to ill-intentioned rumors when I was a child, that Lord Flint was my father," She narrowed her eyes as a memory suddenly came to her, "My blood flows through my daughters' lines while my sons' may be all be lies." she let out a humorless laugh, "That was something my blasted paternal grandmother used to say when I was around..."
It may have been because of her sour mood as of late or her overwhelming feelings that Sansa found herself at odds on how to proceed. In all honesty, this was uninteresting to her, "Well, you take me by surprise, my lady. Will you give me some time to think about it? to discuss it with my advisors?" With Bran.
"She's about five months pregnant, My Queen." the lady answered the unasked question, "I'm sending her to Essos to deliver it... to try to keep her honor intact. It's not bad to wish a good life for my daughter, and that child would make it impossible."
"What will you do with the child if I refuse to help?" Lady Marna shrugged and Sansa inferred enough from the gesture. "the North takes care of her children, no questions asked." That was a reminder of the facility that had been established after the Long Night for all the children who'd been left orphaned, where they were offered shelter until a certain age before they were sent away to work in service of the north somewhere. It wasn't a perfect system but at least it was of some help.
"My daughter doesn't want to keep the child but it's too late to get rid of it. She doesn't know that I came to you, though." She warned.
"And what is it that you want in exchange for that child?" Sansa asked, "... besides keeping your daughter's honor intact? I mean, you must want something."
"Not really." Answered Lady Marna.
Sansa wasn't so sure.
Back in Winterfell she wrote at once to Bran, she needed him to use his sight to know if it was true that this child would have Stark blood. She also had to admit that she didn't wish to name it her successor, she only wanted to protect it because that was what honor demanded if he was in fact family.
Then, it took her more than a week to find enough peace of mind to reply to Podrick's last scroll and what she opened with was a request to share his worries, doubts and suspicions about his work both with the King and Brienne and not only with her. What she left out was that she no longer knew her brother well enough to be able to settle his mind or tell him he was wrong. It was only after a few attempts that she felt like she could mirror the sweet words that he professed her.
'I cannot deny that I would have enjoyed seeing you win that tourney, though not your collapse. And as for receiving the crown... it didn't bode well the last time a woman in my family received one. You are right, it would have been reckless of you but that wouldn't have lowered the value of its meaning. You're the living image of the knights I used to dream about when I was a girl, the one I now long for as a woman, hard as it is to admit it.
I still can't see what could have possibly made you fall for someone like me and still, as little as I deserve your affection, I'm immensely pleased to know I have it.
... If only things were different... but they are not.
Days before you left, you asked me for a lock of hair, which I still think is a rather morbid sign of affection but I no longer can or want to deny you, specially after your sent those petals. So I'm enclosing it as it is the only thing I can offer freely, besides my heart, for you to always remember and keep me close to yours.
With all my affection.'
Before dispatching the letter Sansa remarked that the anniversary of his departure would be in two weeks. She still wasn't sure whether to send the scroll or to destroy it and thusly put an end to all communication between her and Podrick. She was highly aware that the paper in her hand was dangerous, that these scrolls they exchanged could end up in someone else's hands but then, that fact fact hadn't detered either one of the before.
Following her advice, Podrick summoned some courage and he wrote to the king; it was like a weight lifted from his back, Sansa had been right, it was better to write him.
He looked at the lock of hair on the table beside him and he chuckled remembering that she found it a morbid souvenir but she sent it nonetheless. Then, removed form his own tribulations, he proceeded to write back.
'On a different subject, I'm the one who can't believe that a woman like you would even remark upon someone like me.
You shouldn't think so badly of yourself, you have a heart even if you're not quick to show it to others. What's special is how you offered it to me, and yes, I know I shouldn't assume that you did and much less that it still belongs to me but that is what you're saying between the lines.'
Podrick studied his reply for a few hours wondering if it was wise to add that last part; with each passing day the letters between them had stopped having a calming effect on him and instead he felt that she was presenting him with what could have been and it weighted on him. In the end he decided to go with what he had already written.
Before receiving her response, another scroll reached him from King Bran, who answered his questions by telling him not to get ahead of his own injuries. He also told him that he would be a Kingsguard as long as he, Podrick, wished to be one and that he had let Lord Tyrion send him to the Westerlands because he also wished that he could rest and stop thinking about the injury so much, that doing so would help him in the future.
Podrick read and reread that letter to exhaustion wondering all the while what the King meant by as long as he wished to be one. Days later, he left aside his doubts and he shared the news with her.
In the following weeks Sansa found herself writing letters back and forth not only with Podrick, but with Bran, Lady Marna, Lord Tyrion and Lord Humphrey.
Bran was easy: Yes. the child would have Stark blood flowing through his veins. But he wanted to be the one to host the child in King's Landing, not only to divert the rumors away from her but also because even if the Throne wasn't meant for another Stark, it would be wise to have one in court interested in keeping good faith between the two realms. Oh, and he said that he would bet on her own descendants. Sansa was taken aback by that but she could see the logic in his words.
The Three-Eyed-Raven, or her, raising that child was a bewildering and terrifying thought better left for another time. After agreeing to his plan and arranging the details Sansa wrote to Lady Marna, though she didn't share all of the plans with her.
Lord Tyrion too sent her a personal scroll wherein he told her that the Six Kingdoms had been made aware of a foreign presence that was encouraging petty thefts in King's Landing and though he doubted that this would start up in the North, he would like her to make her Lords aware too so that they were on the lookout. The other realms had received the warning as well and he also asked that if something similar happened in the north, she should ask her lords to pardon the thieves lives and have them answer to her instead so that she could deal it with the cooperation of King's Landing. 'There's no need for deaths. We'll send them back to whence they came, we don't need to start trouble with Essos.
Sansa wrote back asking him what kind of foreign presence, to please be more specific and to tell her whether something had happened. She also wrote Brienne asking her about the whole thing.
Her exchanges with Lord Humphrey were different. The Lord left Winterfell but only a week had gone by when she found out that he was in White Harbor finishing up some business. She received a message from the port but it wasn't from the Manderly's, it was from him apologizing again for being so insistent.
Sansa replied that all was forgiven to finally turn the page, adding that she was more than certain that across all realms there would be plenty of ladies thrilled at the prospect of marrying him but that regrettably she wasn't one of them.
She left Podrick for last.
When Podrick received the letter almost month had gone by and her response was only a short and succinct scroll because other urgent matters had come up and she found herself in the middle of multiple meetings with her lords. It took Podrick a couple of hours to realize that unless there was a very important problem in the North, she had been lying to him in the scroll because her quarterly meetings with the lords were not scheduled for that month. In any case, she wrote that he shouldn't be so humble, that he was a great man. And then she talked about how he always wanted to be a Knight and that he had fulfilled his dream and no one, not even Bran, could take that away from him. It had been so long since his last scroll that at first, Podrick wasn't sure about where that came from.
In the next weeks, seeing as he got no reaction, specially the lack of reproach, from his heartfelt farewells and sweet nothings, he decided to keep showering her with them. Sometimes he reminded her of the things he used whispered between kisses or just to catch her attention. Other times about how he would love to get lost in her eyes once more. And little by little she started to echo his goodbyes, to admit that she thought about him constantly and that she would like to have him by her side, though he knew the latter wasn't really an admission of truth but something she was just saying.
And Sansa started to feel guilty about stoking the fire when it came to his feelings while she had already accepted that things between them were over. If she kept at it, it was out of pure nostalgic indulgance and because she missed him but it wasn't something that helped her deal with her current reality.
"A union with me will do you no good," she reiterated the next time she came across Lord Humphrey. She suspected meeting him again hadn't been exactly accidental but she couldn't know for sure. Her carriage was approaching the Vale of Arrym while his was being prepared for his departure. And it was him who made a point to speak with her. "The North, or rather I, have nothing yo offer you."
"You're the most important woman in the whole of Westeros."
Sansa reluctantly agreed."No child of mine will end up sitting in the Southron throne, in case that's what you and your family are aiming for... And even if you had me in your pocket, you'll get even less now that your region is declaring independence from my brother's kingdom."
"You're mistaken, Your Grace, I wouldn't use this alliance for political advantage." He stated as he realized she wasn't as antagonistic as the last time they spoke, "I'm a third son. I'm no one. I'm not looking for political unions."
Sansa tilted her head."You'll have to excuse my bluntness but then, what are you to your family? a burden? You helped me with the interest rate and that must have come at a cost for you and your family. They agreed to help either because they love you or because they have political stakes in this."
"Is it so hard to believe that it's the former? I mean, this world we live in might not be the best to cultivate a good family but from what I heard you had one. Is it so hard to believe that my family also want what's best for me?
"If you have heard about me then you'll know I'm not what's best for you."
Humphrey smiled, "... You'd be surprise, My Queen."
"I am not your queen."
He smiled cheekily again because he could see that she was warming up to him even if she didn't realize it yet or if she was trying to push him away, "You will be." he answered charmingly and sure of himself, which immediately realize she didn't appreciate like other women might have. He turned serious, "Just give me a chance. Just one. Get to know me."
"This isn't a joke to me, Lord Humphrey." She walked past him but she stopped when she heard his next words.
"And you do think it's one to me? that I'm playing with my future?"
"You certainly are when you engage in inappropriate behavior."
"One chance. I could prove easy to ignore once we're married, like I suspect you'd prefer." Like the North would prefer. "Just don't judge me from a single aspect of my character."
Sansa continued on her way as she ruminated on her future. She spent a sleepless night and before dawn the next morning she found herself stumbling into Lord Harry inside a random room. She was struck by a wave of disdain for the man but it didn't stop her from coming inside at the sight of the jar of wine he was nursing. "Can't sleep?"
"No, Ma'am." he answered, eyebrows rising when he realized she was making her way towards him. Seeing her about to pour of wine, he tried to beat her to it bet she didn't let him and went as far as refilling his cup. "Are you here to relieve me from my position as your advisor?" he asked bluntly since he saw no other reason for her to want to speak to him directly.
"Not just yet." She took a seat facing him and ignoring the way he was looking at her for joining him at such unholy hour while wearing only her night robe, which actually covered her quite well, "What's your opinion of Lord Humphrey?"
Lord Humphrey. Although she never spoke a word about the man everyone knew what his intentions were, specially after visiting Winterfell not long after making sure that the Reach granted lower Interest rates to the North."He's the best of all the suitors you've had. It'd be advantageous for the North if you married him."
"For the north, certainly. But he's not the one for me."
"Ser Podr-" but he stopped himself when she barely gestured with hand as she shook her head.
"I'm not here to talk about Ser Podrick."
"Then I don't know what you mean by the one for you. I certainly wasn't."
"Yet here you are, acting jealous while you throw me into the arms of another."
Lord Harry chuckled derisively, "You were never meant for me. I've known that for a while. I may not look it but I let you long ago... ever since you fell from the pedestal I'd put you on because of your ill-advised choices." It was obvious that his harshness wasn't welcome but that was him, blunt and straightforward. So this time it was him gesturing at her to let him carry on and to listen. "But even without all that I would be blind not to see that Lord Humphrey is your best choice. Another one like him won't come around so easily."
No, there wouldn't be someone else like him. She was well aware that Lord Humphrey was her best suitor. "You let me go?" Gods, was he arrogant!
"... From my heart." he explained, "Why should I get my hopes up for something that was not to be? I let you go from my heart." He pressed his lips together, he wasn't good with feelings, "You're free to think that all my objections to Ser Podrick were a product of jealousy andthey might have been at first, certainly, but once I saw the futility in it and I let you go I focused only on what's best for the north. Lord Humphrey is what's best for the north. You know it."
She did.
"Matters of the heart are secondary at best for people like us. I'm surprised that you, out of everybody can't see that."
"Not so long ago you advised me against looking like I was for sale to the highest bidder and now you want me to act like I am..." Her reminder caused him to take a deep breath. "If I were to refused the man, what would be the consequences for the North?"
He was glad to sense a shift in her tone, moving on now to politics and finances, the two things where they tended to agree, "I'm making assumptions here but if it got out that his offer was of significance to the North and than you rejected him, then It would show that your main focus is not your people. And as for our finances... well, you know as well as I do that in two years time, the interest rates will go up again and we'll have to raise taxes, something neither your Lords nor your vassals will like."
It was inconceivable that a single region could hold so much influence over another overnight, Sansa raged in silence because the least her advisors know about her dealings with Lord Hightower the easier it would be for her to make a decision free of the opinions and interests of others, a decision informed by the big picture. For now, Lord Humphrey had agreed to deal directly and only with her and, if anything, it had earned her respect. Sansa stood, "I have not confirmed Lord Hightower's intentions to you, are we clear?"
Lord Harry nodded, the warning against telling anyone about this conversation was clear. It did shock him to see her walking away with the cup and the near-full jar of wine.
Hours later, slightly drunk and ruminating in front of the hearth, with her eyes lost in the dancing flames she couldn't believe that it was that conversation with Lord Harry that gave her the resolve to let go of Podrick once and for all. And the emotions flowing through her heart couldn't really be described like sadness or pain, more like what Lord Harry was talking about; a bitter sort of acceptance.
And then another question hit her, had she been holding on to Podrick just to have an excuse and refuse the proposal?
She was so confused from so much thinking, so much running; so many worries and fears.
Not hearing from her in the following weeks wasn't something Podrick found odd and he wasn't making much of an effort to write to her because Lord Bronn was visiting and the last thing he needed was for the man to find out about his particular interest in the Queen and mock him for it. With Lord Tyrion's acquiesce, he left his post as an emissary to join Lord Bronn on his tour of the Westerlands to open and close negotiations across all the territory. The oddest thing he was made privi to was the fact that Bronn was financing the mercenaries from Essos known as the Second Sons.
"I get their services cheap and then I find expensive deals for them in Essos. It's good business." He grinned at Pods skeptic look.
"Does the king know about this?
As long as he wasn't bringing them into Westeros it was fine; he clapped Podrick in the back, "is there anything the King doesn't know about?" he jested, "Come with me, I'll introduce you to this group and we'll hear what they have to offer this time."
"I can't go to Essos!"
"We're not going to Essos, you cunt. We'll close this deal at sea. It'll only take a couple days. Come with me. You'll strutter around like you have big balls and we'll have a good time over there." It's not like this was the first time Podrick would be rubbing elbows with a bunch of Second Sons, Bronn had already brought them once to King's Landing so that they'd teach a selected group of soldiers, Podrick and the Lord Commander included, quicker, more lethal moves. "... besides, I've been talking to them about your injury, maybe over there their healers can help you out."
That surprised him enough to mahe him halt in his step, "You've done that for me, my lord?"
Bronn turned to look at his grateful eyes and he had to roll his own pretending he was sick of the knight, "a'right, alright, no need to kiss me." he kept walking, "I might be curious about your magic cock, but not like that, you pillow bitter!." They both laughed at that but then Bronn gave him another clap on the back, "How's the pain?"
"Gone, for now. I can even walk a hundred yards without feeling like I'll break in two."
"That's good. I think it's your muscles, or a nerve. If it was a punctured organ you'd be cured or dead already... that's just a pulled muscle. And I know plenty of girls who could give you a massage," he wagged his eyebrows suggestively, "even in your less injured parts."
Podrick tried not to laugh, "... That sounds good. But I'd rather the maesters do it."
"You fucking cocksucker!" they both laughed out loud again and after they calmed down Bronn went on, "So, should we go and see what those Second Sons fuckers got to say?"
Podrick didn't find it in himself to say no asecond time.
Right from the first meeting he realized that something was cooking with Lord Bronn when he was introduced as as his right hand and financier, all with a different name and origin. Bronn wasn't Lord Bronn either but a bastard from the Crownlands. Podrick went along with the deception but once they were alone and in private he made it clear that he didn't like playing those games but Bronn only retorted that it was better not to let men like that know too much about their lives or about who they really were.
Back in the Westerlands he didn't want to end up entangled in Lord Bronn's rather decadent behavior and after two or three wild nights of debauchery he let the man know it as politely as possible, though maybe he should have waited for a better time.
"When the hells did you become such a prude?"
Him a Prude?! Podrick wondered, but yes, he supposed he could be called one since he prefered feasting around Lord Tyrion if only because he knew that he could be trusted to vouch for him and his impeccable behavior while the debauchery that Lord Bronn left in his wake would leave him open to accusations against his morals.
"Oh right. Since you became a Kingsguard." Bronn deadpaned before standing abruptly and throwing the naked whore who had been on his lap at Podrick, who had no choice but to grab her to help her regain her balance, but Bronn noticed how he wasn't that quick to let go of her waist or to hide the desire from his eyes, for that matter, "Now, tell me those big tits aren't tempting?"
Podrick's eyes were drawn to the aforementioned area for longer than he would have liked but he forced himself to raise them to her face as he let go, "... I'm sorry."
As Podrick made to leave, Bronn tried to stop him, "Come on, stay, the King doesn't have to find out!" he actually thought he had convinced him because the knight stopped to throw a longing look at the woman and the bulge in his pants was rather visible. "When was the last time you had a good fuck?... obviously the magic cock is still alive... I don't know, at least get a good suck in, won't be breaking your oaths that way, right?... they're not really that specific, eh?" Seeing that Podrick was evidently interested he smacked the whore's ass, "Go work on my friend. He needs it more than me." But the second the woman went by him to approach Podrick, the knight just seemed to awake from his trance because he shook his head and left. Quickly. "Now you're afraid of women?!" Bronn shouted at his retreating form before bursting into laughter.
What else could Podrick expect from Bronn? He wasn't really surprised. So from that moment on he decided to distance himself from the lord by leaving him to his travels so that his behavior wouldn't cast a shadow on his reputation. But he was friendly in his farewell telling him he'd be expecting him in the Payne house if he wanted to come by before going back to King's Landing or the Reach. Bronn being Bronn took it in stride and even mocked his lack of virility a little followed by a loud burst of laughter as they patted each others' backs.
So, now he was certain that Bronn wasn't going to be peeking over his shoulder, he finally wrote to the queen. He informed her that he'd be back in King's Landing soon and that the would let her know exactly when so that they could go back to their regular communication. He asked her for discretion before revealing that he was in the Westerlands at the behest of Lord Tyrion to help solve a financial disagreement between houses Lannister and Payne acting as a sort of neutral negotiator since he didn't really have too much invested in either one. However, he had reconnected with his family some and he had earned their respect and admiration because of his standing as a Kingsguard.
Once he was back in the capital, Lord Tyrions and Ser Brienne welcomed him with a special dinner and plenty of toasts to his name between worried wookls the two exchanged but which he but he failed to notice.
Later, he was welcomed by the King with a remark about it seeming like his absence to have healed his body and soul because he was in better shape and spirits. But then, when the King asked him to take a seat, Podrick realized that something unsavory was coming.
It was worse than just iunsavory; it felt like his world caved in as he heard him tell him that because of his injury he was in less than optimal shape and thus unable to wear his armor, so it would be reckless of the king to keep him as a Kingsguard. Podrick's smile dropped and through the foggy feeling tht settle oupon him, he noticed that Brienne, who was standing on the other end of the room looked as surprised as he was by what she was hearing, she even took a step forward to object to the king but she seemed to reconsider a second later when she lowered her gaze and stepped back into place.
"I'm offering you an Honorable dismissal. I can release you from your oath because of your health. It's the best course of action for you, Ser Podrick." The king had seen what the consequences of his injury could be if he didn't mind it properly but as expected, neither the Kingsguard nor the Lord Commander took his words well, "I have looked into what may happen give the injury you sustained and though its repercussions may seem like nothing now, they'll become devastating in the future if you aren't careful. A bad hit and you won't be able to walk a few yards without help in the best if cases." the words obviosly impacted him and his eyes looked to Ser Brienne whose was only giving them a blank look.
The Three-Eyed-Raven knew she was staying out of it then because she would get into it later but still he addressed her as well. "Ser Podrick won't be able to defend me in case I need him to. He might make his best effort at first but... it won't be enough. It would be reckless and selfish of me not to warn him." He looked back at the Kingsguard and he could see a flicker of anger in his disappointed eyes, "You'll always have a place serving me and the crown, Ser Podrick, you have other skills that I may find useful."
Podrick was trying to get himself under control despite how upset and disappointed he was, "... you wrote that I'd be your guard until I chose to." and what other skills was he talking about?
"Certainly. It's up to you whether you continue being my Guard and I won't refuse despite the risk. I want you to be aware of it." The Three-Eyed-Raven was unable to read minds and for that reason, up until that moment he didn't know about the depth of the guard's feelings for Sansa or whether they remained unchanged; the curious part of him that believed that Podrick would have liked to be set free, and honorably to boot, was surprised, not that it factored in his reasoning for offering; the main reasons were his injury and the other other plans he had for him.
"I'd like to remain in the Kingsguard, then." he answered and he saw the surprised look on the King, like he hadn't expected that answer. "It's what I am." he explained and although the king nodded it feltas htough it was a reluctant agreement, one that didn't feel quite final.
Even with assurance of the the Kings decision to let him continue in his role as guard, a desolate, sinking feeling took hold of Podrick, and without skipping a beat he strode away into the first empty training room he could find. A room where the king no longer thought he belonged in.
He hadn't lifted a sword or wielded a weapon of any kind since the tourney so he picked up the first wooden one he saw stopping a second to feel its weight before going for one of the training dolls and beating the straw right out of it. He only stopped and turned when he hard the door opening behind him. The pitiful look Ser Brienne gave him only managed to devastate him further, "Being a Knight, a Kingsguard is all I know, the only thing I always wanted." he said as he brought a hand to his face as if to hide how heartbroken he was by the King's words. "It's the one thing I know how to do. You know that."
Seeing him about to cry made her own throat tighten but Brienne took a deep breath and she stilled her body to find a way to speak, to reassure him "... We'll work with what the King allowed. You are a Kingsguard."
It took a long time before he thought about her and given how distraught he was feeling, it occurred to him that maybe his affection for her wasn't that strong since he hadn't jumped at the chance that had been given to him.
Honestly, he was devastated.
From Ser Brienne's silent and reassuring presence he then turned to Lord Tyrion's who was also shocked by the news; the King lked to keep a lot of his decisions private untill it was time to make public announcements, even to his council. Lord Tyrion could only feel pity for the young man who asked him and Ser Brienne to keep this between them.
Tyrion invited him to his table to drink to his heart content, until all his sorrows were well and drowned.It was Ser Brienne who left first. Between drinks, Tyrion admitted that he would like to take him under his wing if he would like it, "Not that it's a sensible offer on my part since you have such a gentle, nay incorruptible, heart. That, I could do without." Ser Podrick made no retort, his eyes fixed on the wooden table, "and if what you would rather is to have a job instead of a life, we could always go to Lord Bronn, you know he holds you in great esteem, it would be easy for him to welcome you into one of his groups of mercenaries."
"I only wish to be a knight, a Kingsguard. Mercenaries lack honor, they only care about gold. ... Don't tell Lord Bron I said that, I also hold him in great esteem."
Tyron smirked as he grabbed him by the neck, pulling him closer to the wine in front of him. "You're forgetting something essential, Ser Podrick, Knights and mercenaries can fuck to their hearts' content."
"Mmm..." Podrick managed to emit dismissively.
The half answered amused the imp, "Leaving the Kingsguard is not the worst dishonour, especially if the King himself offers it. You shouldn't wait until you're half-dead and bed-ridden to consider it."
The next morning he awoke only to find himself, for some odd reason, in the stables with Lord Tyrion still sleeping next to him after a stable boy threw a bucket of water at him, missing the lord entirely. He was nursing a terrible headache but managed to be lucid enough to wake Lord Tyrion and escort him to his chambers.
Once sober and clear headed he thought back on his reaction the day before and found it overdramatic. The king had given him the freedom to choose. And he had. So what was the big deal? That night he showed up at the king's chambers with his shiny armor and the King dipped his head as if to acknowledge and reaffirm his acceptance.
The pain from the weight of the armor only appeared several days later.
He opted for not telling Sansa about any of it, if she found out, well, that would just be one more irony of his life. He wasn't the man for her. It took him a few weeks to send a reply to her latest scroll and not without remarking on the fact that, even if their letters still came and went, they were not near as frequent as before, and maybe that was for the best.
A couple of months later, Podrick noticed a scroll on the King's desk bearing the direwolf seal, which made it clear who it was from. From the paper alone he could tell that the letter was a personal one from his sister, Sansa Stark , rather than from The Queen in the North. The King spent all morning and afternoon unmoving and absent and, although he was facing a window, his whitened eyes gave Podrick chills. One of the times when the king came back to himself, Podrick dared ask him if everything was well, since he was aware of who the scroll was from.
"I'm looking for Arya," he answered and the Kingsguard narrowed his eyes. "Nymeria, Arya's direwolf, went to Winterfell to die. Sansa is concerned about... the implications. There's a bond between a direwolf and its master." The Kingsguard nodded at that, "I can't find Arya, I haven't seen her in years."
Podrick stared at the king silently as he took notice at of lack of emotion in his voice and he gave a nod to let him continue talking.
Since she didn't write tell him about it, Podrick didn't mention it either. And even if she had, what was there to say? Meaningless encouraging words that were of no use.
It was after that when, from one day to the next, King's Landing and the whole of Westeros was swept in scandal when a baby arrived. The child was presented to the court as the King's ward, he'd be named Brandon Stark and it was announced that the blood of the First Men flowed through his veins.
Whether it was the Queen's child, Arya's child or, gods forbid, the last Targaryen descendent sired by Jon Snow beyond the wall was all speculation that the King promptly denied, yet, he offered no further explanations besides saying that his was Stark blood.
During those weeks, Podrick had a bit of fun in his correspondence with Sansa as they recounted to each other what people were saying across the land; in the North everyone thought it absurd that rumor had it it was her child because the Queen let herself be seen by her subjects every day and so that bit of gossip was only fpopular in the south and maybe in some very secluded parts of the north. She even relayed to him that some lords found it distasteful when she hinted that it would be a relief if it was her child because then she wouldn't have to marry again.
In all that time, Podrick only made one mistake in regards to the Queen and it happened to be in front of the King.
At some point, he had been speaking about his sister and Podrick, distracted by the pain in his back and by a bout of tiredness replied that 'Yes, that sounds like Sansa.'He was quick to realize his mistake and he could feel the world coming to a halt as the king stared at him with an odd and open expression of surprise at the informal manner in which he referred to the Queen. He felt hot and and sweaty completely at a loss as to how to fix the situation.
The Three-Eyed-Raven regarded him and spoke slowly because although he had made a point not to broach the subject, he was well aware of what had happened between them, "I certainly didn't know how things would play when I sent you North. Not even when I named you my ambassador." he admitted again, though this time he'd be sure to be more specific.
Oh, he should have suspected that something like what happened would, but he never thought that Sansa would recover enough from her trauma to trust a man in that respect. He only looked into the affairs of the North when he received the scroll in which she asked him to call Ser Podrick Payne back to King's Landing.
"You see, I only look into the lives of people who matter in this game and although Sansa matters, she's not a threat to me because of our blood ties. So as soon as I sent you North, I left her safety in your hands and I focused on finding the people who where behind the attacks against us instead of suspecting you of overreaching in your assigned task."
Podrick, who was in a cold sweat by then, tried to interject but the king raised his hand to stop him from interrupting him, "I try not to judge, Ser Podrick." he wasn't impressed by how the Knight had been offered and inch but taken a mile. He couldn't deny it felt like a betrayal to his trust, "Sansa is a woman in her own right and it's best that I don't interfere in this. I'm not interested in meddling and bring about something as unexpected once more..."
Podrick felt shamed into silence and so he waited for the King to continue but when it was evident that he wouldn't go on he spoke, "I am sorry, my King, for betraying your trust in such a lowly manner." But he was quick to correct his words, "Except it wasn't lowly, really. I always respected your sister and the feelings that were born between us ar-were true. That's the only reason why I took a gamble and acted behind your back."
Bran was well aware of all that and so he decided to get to his point, "Despite your overstepping with her, it did her good, that's the reason I can't entirely call your actions a betrayal." He considered his next words for a few seconds opting for not telling him that he was two steps away from figuring out who had been behind the attacks or that they might still looking to retaliate. "That doesn't mean, however, that I support your actions; you two were reckless and she more than anyone knows what she's risking if she suddenly decides to put her heart before her duty. Our family is better off when we leave personal satisfaction for last."
"She does know that, my King." and so did he; if he didn't, he would have run off Northbound the second he was given the option to leave the Kingsguard.
That night, after he finished his shift, he decided to write her to warn her that the King knew perfectly well what had transpired between them and that he could start questioning her. He spared no details in telling her about their conversation and that it was the first and probably last time they would talk about it.
'I am sorry but in my mind I no longer think of you as ma'am or Your Grace. To me you're simply Sansa and when I replied to your brother I wasn't really paying attention. It was foolish of me, you'll agree.
Sansa felt something like vindication when she read that letter, it was a relief to know that Bran knew about them and that he finally chose to say something about it, plus she was sure it was better that he talked about it with Podrick and not her. She ended up replying that he shouldn't worry about Bran, that if the subject came up again she would deal with her brother but she was certain that what he already said to him would be it.
She wasn't sure about how to tell him that she was considering a marriage proposal, one that seemed acceptable after much thoughtful consideration. But amidst her frustration she somehow just wrote it adding that she wasn't happy about her decision but that she would do her duty. I'm selling myself to the highest bidder.
She sent the raven but she kept to herself that while giving Lord Hightower a chance, she spent time with him pretending that everything was peachy keen, that she was free of doubts and that there definitevely wasn't someone else stopping her accepting his proposal. She was trying — more like forcing herself— to focus on how good looking he was, how gallant, but in reality she could barely see more than a good man who was as trapped as her; gentle and personable, for sure, but filled with doubts and llooking to run as far as possible from his own demons and family.
The news hit Podrick so suddenly that he had to read the paragraph twice to realize that he hadn't misunderstood and his chest constricted with dismay. Although, life seemed to pass him by in the hours following the revelation, he also felt that the news should have hit him harder and they hadn't. Podrick knew he should be feeling more than this given what they had had, that his feelings for her deserved more than this numbness, this feeling of distant loss, but maybe that was it, distance, after all, he had been mourning this loss for the better part of a year.
It wasn't until he sat down to write her back that his throat tightened and his chest constricted with so much force. Ironically, for once it felt good to be justified in feeling so bad. He found himself wiping his eyes every time he thought of a sentence to write down and at the same time, he was indulging in a sort of masochistic pleasure by remembering songs of heartbreak. At some point in the night he just stood from the desk, left his room and sneaked into the cellar to take a bottle of wine saying that Lord Tyrion had asked for it. He then went back to his room to empty the bottle, which seemed to be doing too little to inebriate him.
Just for a moment he considered the idea —it was nothing more than a fleeting fantasy really— of going to the King the next morning and stepping down as Kingsguard before setting out for the North. But its was for naught; that was a story for a song or a book, not reality. He had nothing to offer while that man surely had it all.
Two nights later he was feeling slightly less heartbroken and so he managed to write down something that he had been mulling over for the past forty-eight hours.
'You know that your words bring me sadness; you must not think about it like that because you're not selling yourself to the highest bidder. If you are considering this it'is because he brings to the table qualities that your previous suitors lacked.
You deserve happiness and I'm sure that if you accept it's because, somehow, that man will make you happy and he will give you the peace you need.'
Her response was brief too, only three paragraphs held together by nothing but a handful of phrases. Her words made it clear that she was no longer considering accepting the proposal, that she already had. But among her ramblings an almost poetic sentence caught his attention.
''I have been certain for the longest time that no one is to marry me out of love.'
That had him throwing all his confusing certainties out the window. It made him upset, angry and frustrated. What did she expect from him after that? why was she telling him that? why couldn't she find someone else to tell all this to instead of rubbing it in his fucking face?
His response was a single phrase that felt hypocritical given his current stormy feelings but it was prompted by his inability to fully abandon his foolish hope, because it felt like that was the one thing he could do against simply letting her accept that betrothal even if it would mean turning his back on everything that he was, everything that made him take pride in himself.
'I would marry you out of love if you asked me to.'
That sentence was him opting to leave it in her hands, after all, right from the start, everything had always been in her hands.
Honestly though, leaving the Kingsguard would mean that he'd be even in a worse position to go to her. None of it made sense. Regardless, he sent the response knowing that it was sure to change the dynamic between them but knowing he wasn't risking much more if she dared take him up on it because he was certain she would not.
She'd have to deal the final and definitive blow that wouldput all of this behind him at last. And then he wouldn't have to overthink it or feel so much because of it anymore.
In truth, Podrick was nothing but confused. Sometimes he felt that he loved her to the end of the world and he wanted to write to add that his dismissal from the Kingsguard wouldn't be as dishonorable as she thought before he reminded himself that being a Kingsguard was his life, it was what he was meant to be. Inn the end it was clear that he didn't know what he wanted, and so he didn't write more.
Maybe if he could look into her eyes once more he would know for sure.
When his response came, when that response came, she stared at the scroll the whole morning. Tears of frustration fell from her eyes; this was the one scroll from him that she felt capable of throwing to the fire, which in fact she did to immediately regret it as she witnessed the flames consume it.
'I can't be selfish and ask you to disgrace yourself so.' She replied at last trying to rein herself in and be mindful, 'besides, what this man is offering would benefit the North immensely and I'd be a terrible ruler were I to overlook that. The lives of thousands of Northerners may depend on it ... what's that against the peace and joy of a single person?
I know how this sounds, Podrick, but believe me, I don't mean to make you feel as though I look down on you at all. On the contrary, in my heart and mind there will never be another who can compare to you. But sadly these are the parts we have to play.
I always said that my duty came before my heart, didn't I?
I deeply regret that I'm hurting you but, please never doubt what you meant, what you still mean to me.
Forever yours, SS.'
Podrick had always figured that her answered would be something along those lines. That's the reason why he didn't even consider leaving the Kingsguard before having her input. To think that could have stood down from his position and gone north only to be rejected? Or worse, to become the fifth wheel in her marriage...
Her farewell though, that was the reason why he stopped himself from giving into resentment after she pretty much stated that he had nothing to offer.
It seemed like in the end, despite their multiple transgressions they did know what their places were.
He balled-up the paper in his fist and he threw it in the fire wishing he could do that to his heart. Then he left the room in search for fresh air.
Two weeks later, he somehow managed to resolve to write her back. Although he was devastated, he thought his words concealed it well enough as he tried to give her some encouragement knowing that she needed it. Though he left it unspoken, that final answer from her marked the end of them.
In the following months they would seldom write to each other and their exchanges would stay off personal matters, the missives mostly consisted of cordial greetings and talk of the realms; they both knew that it was only a matter of time before the correspondence came to a definitive halt.
Podrick didn't inquire further into her betrothal since he figured he would find out more through others, except it never happened. Still, he decided to put it off his mind. She had her life and he had his.
The sudden turn his life would take was brought on by a meeting that he was called to. The King, Lord Tyrion, Ser Brienne and Lord Bronn were present. In less than half an hour he heard all about how external influences were looking to cause unrest in Westeros. Apparently, he hadn't been sent to the Westerlands only to recover from his injury and the reason Lord Bronn had introduced him to the group of Second Sons with a different name and title wasn't for the sake of anonymity. The reason was that he was the ideal person to infiltrate the Second Sons.
"Except for your name and background, you'll remain yourself, Podrick. We need your attitude and your ears, nothing more. You'll seek no confrontations or heroics. The more inconspicuous you are the better."
All of it came as a shock to him, "But they've seen my face."
"A simpleton's face that's easy to forget." Bronn stated, "Easier still if you come to them as a ragged lowlife from Westeros with more than a bone to pick with us..."
"A great great grand-uncle of mine was part of the Second Sons a long time ago, Rodrick Stark." The Three-Eyed-Raven explained, "By now the whispers in Westeros tell that Brandon Stark, my ward, is one among many bastard descendants of my Uncle Brandon."
"That will be your backstory. You'll be one of Brandon Stark's bastards looking to join the Second Sons as the first step to reclaim what you know is yours..."
"This is a faction of the Second Sons who wish to dethrone me, who backed the attack against Sansa and me."
Podrick listened intently if hesitantly, unsure of what to make of all of this or what to say. Unsure he understood completely.
Bronn snapped his fingers in his face to bring him out of his tribulations, "you'll only be our ears, got it? No need for bravery. Just you being the good lad you are and earning the trust of some people. Listening."
Brienne pressed her lips together before speaking for the firs time during the meeting, "This is a complex, long-term plan that's constantly changing. For now, this will stay in this room, if you accept, we'll train you in what to say and how to act and we'll give you a backstory that they can verify. You won't be the only spy among the mercenaries but we don't want you to have contact with the others beforehand."
"I'll visit from time to time, too." Bronn added.
Lord Tyrion smiled sadly seeing Podrick struck dumb by all they were telling him, "You'll have time to get used to the idea. As Ser Brienne says, we expect that, if everything goes according to plan, you'll be leaving in a couple of months. Think it over."
"It's not an order. You can decide whether you'll do it or not." Brienne added the most crucial part of it.
He was going to die in Essos, Podrick was certain of it.
.
.
.