Chapter 18.
That evening, it surprised Brienne to witness two lords and a lady from the North inviting Ser Podrick to the feast, it seemed like they'd caught him unawares in the middle of his shift.
Podrick smiled at them politely but he seemed hesitant and uncomfortable. He knew it was vital to keep his distance with the Queen but he wasn't sure it was entirely possible. This invitation came from her lords but he wouldn't rule out that the next one would come from her, or that he himself would try to get some one on one time with her, he knew it. He wouldn't be able to restrain himself from inviting her somewhere. "I don't think so, my lords. But I do appreciate the gesture."
"Ah Podrick, remember we have a life-long debt to you, the least we can do is invite you to our table."
He smiled cordially at Lord Manderly, "I apologize, my lord, truly, but I'm on active duty serving the King. My time isn't mine and even if it were I don't think I'd be proper for me to just show up without the Queen knowing about it; I'm just a Kingsguard." He was no longer an ambassador that could come and go rubbing elbows with the people around him; not for the first time he felt a flare of resentment about it.
Small though it was. He supposed he was bound to feel that way.
Even if he had never before felt bad about only being a Guard.
"The Queen won't object, we know about the profound friendship that binds you." Lady Barbrey stated with the clear intention of studying the guard's reaction.
Hearing something like restrained sarcasm in the lady's tone was all it took to stop his brooding thoughts from spiraling further. He took a moment and he could see that the other two lords were also taken aback as they all shared an awkward glance. Did they know something? Podrick couldn't help but blush as he pretended that the woman's words and meaning went over his head, "My lords, my lady, I'm afraid I'll have to stick to protocol–"
That's when Brienne decided to intervene; a few nights ago the Queen had spoken to her about what great help Podrick had been and about how grateful she was for his presence when she had been attacked, about how they've come to build trusts and understanding between them. So she knew that the Queen wouldn't mind having him at her table at the behest of her lords, "Ser Podrick, don't play hard to get, you'll offend the lords and I know that's not your intention. Take the night off, it's an order. I'll speak to the king." Who wouldn't refuse her, she knew it, this was only Podrick coming up with excuses, which she found odd because it wasn't like him to refuse a good meal with some good wine and ale.
Hours later, Tyrion saw Podrick make his way into the Great Hall sporting a magnificently neat beard, long hair perfectly pulled back in a ponytail, with his best clothes, shiny shoes and sword as he properly greeted any Lord who crossed his path and seemingly unaware of the glances of interest thrown his way as though people were seeing him for the first time. Being a loyal Kingsguard and traveling beside him afforded him certain luxuries and acquaintances. Tyrion remarked on how he politely made time for some of those acquaintances before moving along.
Podrick was good man, he was, humble, honest and loyal and he had a knack for going unnoticed, yet when he made himself noticed, he was sure to please the right people. Sometimes even soulless ones like Tyrion himself. He was definitely the least intimidating of the Kingsguard, which was why the King employed him when he wanted to relay trust in any given subject. He was also a competent knight that would go wherever the king asked to accompany his emissaries and who would easily make friends amongst bannermen and knights sworn to the various lords and so he'd move amidst advisers and courtiers alike.
It was that ease with people that they were relying on for his mission in Essos.
Tyrion still wasn't sure whether Podrick's gift was a blessing or a curse but his young friend was still alive and kicking and that was something. Of course, Podrick's good disposition apparently was more successful in the North than in the six Kingdoms; when he approach their table, the most prominent northern lords stood to greet him, Lord Manderly patted him in the back and placed a hand on his shoulder as he loudly announced to him and the room that he should 'remember that there will always be a place in the North for you,' which was met with a resounding echo of toasts followed by Podrick's thanks and obvious embarrassment from all the attention.
Tyrion found himself smiling as he raised an eyebrow at Ser Brienne, who smiled back at him proudly. Looking at the West's table, two Payne men were grinning at each other too and practically preening.
He curiously noted that the Knight's presence wasn't to the liking of all Northern lords, but that was only natural after finding out what all those outrageous rumors that she had mentioned three days ago were —of course those who didn't really know her would believe anything.
Sometime later the Queen arrived before looking shocked by Podrick's presence at the table and Tyrion was amused to see that after he very reverently greeted her, he also made a point to shake hands with the two seemingly puzzled guards who were escorting her. and then, she not only welcomed him to her table, but she granted him the honor of having him sit by her side.
Throughout the feast, Tyrion kept an eye on them as they chatted, noticing the open and longing stares she threw at Podrick. No wonder there were so many rumors. It didn't sit well with Tyrion. And since Podrick's back was to him and he wasn't able to see his reactions, he was left wondering if he was foolishly looking back at her the same way.
When the youngest of the Hightower's entered the room, he momentarily fixed his eyes on Podrick but he didn't seem to make a thing of him before taking a seat at the Reach's table. Apparently, Humphrey Hightower was interested in marrying her and after months of refusals she'd finally accepted his proposal, or so he'd heard.
But what really caught his attention was that when dinner was over and the more festive part of the evening started she left the room alongside Podrick. Most of the northerners at the table made a big deal about it; some looked intently at their retreating forms, others shook their heads reproachingly, others started whispering loudly and a few just turned a blind eye. Lord Harry was whispering something heatedly at Lord Cromwell, who was trying to dismiss him while bringing the cup of wine to his lips before the former stood up abruptly to make his way to the Reach's table.
The imp looked at Brienne, who either paid the exchange no mind or missed it altogether. But when his eyes swept across the room they eventually met Bronn's who gave him a mischievous smirk before toasting at him. The smirk was practically saying "Podrick Fucken' Payne, no one can resist him."
They took their time before coming back, her subjects would glance at the door impatiently while her advisors kept acting like nothing was amiss. Once back inside, Podrick escorted her to the table and he spent some more time with the Lords —who acted as though them leaving like that had been perfectly fine, except for a few who seemed to be openly hostile— and when he finally left he came to where Tyrion was sitting. As Podrick got comfortable, Bronn approached them from behind like he was a hunter and the Knight his prey before grabbing him roughly by the shoulders to startle him but Podrick only looked over his shoulder with a smile.
"Podrick Fucken' Payne!"
"My lord." he went to stand to greet him but Bronn patted his back and shook his head.
Then he sat next to him and took a deep breath that made him realize Podrick had even put cologne for her, and so he leaned in to whisper to him, "I'd also love to stick my cock in that little hole," his crude words were immediately met with looks of disgust and reproach; instead of laughing at his comment like they used to, they appeared to be scandalized like blushing maids, "What? It's not like you two, pieces of shit, hadn't thought about it."
"You are referring to my former wife."
"And to my former Lady." Podrick managed to murmur as he took a sip of wine with a blush, "She's the Queen!"
"Your King's sister."
"And yet you'd both fuck her."
Tyrion ignored how Podrick was shifting awkwardly on his seat and as Bronn was about to add something he stopped him, "...You've got two daughters, I'd have thought that had changed you at least a bit."
"Women, unfortunately."
Tyrion should have seen that answer coming, and he used the chance to try to steer the conversation in another direction, though his eye remained on the North's table. Sansa kept an air or aloofness and calm but she kept downing cups of wine with a speed that he wasn't used to witnessing in her, and that, along with the way her eyes seemed fixed on the table let him see that she was unsettled. Had she finally joined his sad and drunken club? He wondered as he also judged her silently since his brand of vices wasn't any good for her. But as the night went on, he observed how she became more sociable, engaging in conversation with lords from the other realms and the more she drank the less heavy-hearted she seemed, she was all smiles, politeness and charisma. She was respectful even to those lords and ladies who had borne witness to the public beatings Joffrey had subjected her to.
The Podrick in front of him wasn't his usual cheery self either, from time to time he'd search for her with sorrowful eyes. Poor fool, he thought, as he poured him cup after cup. Women like Sansa Stark weren't meant for the Podrick Paynes of the world. He made the decision to help burst Podrick's bubble once he could get him alone, by know, the King had made him privy to the news that the Queen in the North was going to introduce him to her betrothed in the coming days.
But for now he, Bronn and Podrick set out to drink; though Podrick was the youngest, he had never been able to keep up with the two of them and he had learned what they never had, drinking in moderation. His table became more crowded with the lords that enjoyed having a good time in between jokes and alcohol and it seemed to relax Podrick, who soon joined in the revelry if only to laugh at what was being said.
.
.
.
When Sansa entered the Great Hall she was surprised to find Podrick sat at the North's table and she wondered how she was able to make her way to it, not that she was complaining. For three days she had been hoping to run into him to arrange a meeting to spend some time with him later but she never did.
Podrick, along with the rest of the people at the table, stood as they saw her coming while Lord Manderly was quick to explain the reason for Podrick's presence there. "...I am sorry to intrude in this way, Ma'am."
"...It's no trouble at all, Ser Podrick." She replied, trying to hide how pleased she was by his presence and by how attractive she suddenly found him, though she wasn't inclined to dwell on that, "Sit beside me, I would like to for us to talk."
Podrick's cheeks flushed by what seemed to be a bold request on her part but he swiftly went to sit by her; they exchanged pleasantries as they were served and some more short and meaningless phrases as they ate, particularly about business that had been left up in the air when he had left the North but that had been solved by now.
They spoke of the tourney where he collapsed, about his injury, and once more he found himself lying to her; downplaying how serious it was even if it didn't feel like a lie because it never bothered him unless he over did it, so the lie fell easily from his lips. The lords joined in the conversation asking him questions and telling him about countless home remedies they had used for similar wounds.
He was trying, and he assumed so was she, not to let his excitement show but judging by the way in which their eyes inadvertently sought and met each other's it was clear that their feelings for each other remained alive in them. They weren't just an illusion he was holding onto in her absence, which is what he'd been telling himself in the past few months. The restrained manner in which they sometimes talked and looked at each other was at odd with the openness they displayed in Winterfell and in their letters.
Their rosy cheeks were more than telling for the entire table.
After some more chatter, he heard the Queen excusing herself for a few minutes before she stood and, as the rest of the table stood in deference, she looked him right in the eye and requested a few moments in private with him. He was half elated and half too aware of how the request didn't sit well with the rest of the table. He hesitated for a moments, though not really, before he stood to follow after her.
"We'll speak more freely this way." She explained although there was no need to. Her guards followed them.
Podrick kept silent as she guided him to a private courtyard that reminded him of their conversation in the Vale of Arryn, except this was a much smaller one and they could be seen from its entrance. She signaled to her guards to give them more privacy and while their hearts raced, Podrick only broke the silence when he was sure that it would be prudent to speak, "You look lovely, Ma'am." He wished he'd started with something different but he couldn't help himself.
She was pleased by his compliment but replied in a joking tone, with a feigned joke, "Now, Podrick, flattery will get you nowhere."
Her lips curled up in a smile that didn't reach her eyes and Podrick saw through it, "You know I'm not trying to flatter, I'm just being honest..." he paused, "it feels odd not calling you by your name now we're face to face...it was easier in writing."
Her hands longed to touch him, but she was too aware of how reckless that would be, "It's good to see you again, Podrick. The North misses you."
"The North?" he asked skeptically without stopping to let her answer and knowing that he had to show some restraint, "...I miss it too. Quite a lot." Their eyes met expectantly for a long moment that allowed them to feel the weight of lie that they were trying to put as a front. He sighed feeling defeated again, "...This is harder than I thought it would be."
She sighed too as her eyes broke away from his, "...I know." She wanted to close the space between them, to bring him to her by the elbow.
"...At least you knew you'd see me. You didn't warn me, didn't let me prepare for this onslaught of feelings I'm having." He saw her swallow nervously before continuing, "Don't get me wrong, seeing you again is a dream but..." he shook his head and he left it at that waiting for her to say something, for an explanation. But he was left waiting. Another long beat passed where both wondered how to proceed, "Did the King say anything about what happened between us?" he decided to ask at last, "...Because he's never said anything again, after that one time."
Sansa shook her head, "No... I suspect that... since it's not something he can use, he's decided to put the knowledge aside."
That rang true, "Right."
And there was silence once more, a very awkward silence that felt odd to both of them since there was so much to say but so many more reasons to keep quiet. Everything had changed and this was a bittersweet reunion.
"Do we have nothing to tell each other anymore?" Podrick asked bitterly.
"...Maybe, or maybe we just know that it's better not to start." She retorted as she bit her mouth to stop herself from saying or doing something reckless. But her willfulness was contrary to her own words and so she spoke, "Find me later in the King's library..."
After everything that happened between them, after all their letters, he was unable to stop himself and he decided to opt for sincerity, for what his mind was screaming at him to do and so he took a step towards her, "Just to talk?" he asked wishing to know what to expect, wishing not to let his hopes get too high.
It had been about five months since their correspondence had all but come to a halt; practically from the moment he realized that she was going to become betrothed they stopped discussing personal matters, but since she had come alone, no prince charming in sight, and since no rumors from the North had been heard about upcoming nuptials he dared to deduce that the union had been thwarted. Not that it changed a thing. If fate would have it that they became entangled again, it would be in secret and it would only last for however long she would be staying, only three weeks. It wasn't enough. But he was enough of an idiot to take it. If he died in Essos, at least he'd take that time with her to the grave.
She tried to swallow the knot in her throat finding no way out of this with some witty remark because she couldn't even think of one, "Yes, to talk and a board game, perhaps," she admitted, her heart racing again, the lure of the temptation made her realize how open she was to the possibility of more but she wanted to stop that train of thought and to stop him from invading her mind... but she had come for him, hadn't she? A small part of her still refused to admit to herself that she was here because of him, because of what may happen. "...Despite my wishes we can't go back to the way things were before, Podrick... I accepted the proposal that I told you about." She whispered to witness the flash of disappointment cross his face, though, if she was being honest, it wasn't that betrothal what would stop her from going back to him but was the respect she felt for him, along with the certainty that crossing that line would only make things worse. "...Podrick."
He felt her hands cupping his face softly and he grabbed her by the wrist to stop her achingly painful touch, still, he turned one of her hands to kiss her palm and he smiled through his disappointment, not that he felt like smiling, he was just a complete fool. "...a part of me had resigned itself to this."
A part of him really had; the rational part that kept saying that this had been an unimportant, pointless game to him. That was same part of him that kept reminding him of his place and of the fact that he wanted so much more than he could ever have. But seeing how the news hurt so much, it appeared that hearing about the betrothal dampened his more rational side in favor of his emotional side. He released her wrists and she didn't try to touch him again. He wanted to run and shout, to kick himself for his stupidity, but he stood his ground to show that the news weren't as disappointing as they really were.
Podrick's eyes were fixed on hers but his jaw was clenching and she knew he wasn't fine either, "The news will be announced once we're back in the North." She said drawing strength from somewhere unknown and looking at the ground in an effort to stop the tears of frustration from falling; she'd like to lie to herself and say her eyes were welling up because of Podrick but that wasn't the case, she was frustrated by her inability to find a way to get out of that marriage. She felt like her hands were tied and she was drowning in despair.
Podrick wanted to remain impassive, both his instincts and the many conversations they had had gave him an insight into her mind; her sadness wasn't because of him but rather because she felt cornered into an unwanted marriage. Unless…had she come to come care for that other man? The mere idea felt like a blow, was she crying because she felt guilty?
He tried to take a calming breath, the last thing he wanted was to see her cry, he wouldn't be able to control his own emotions then, and so he lowered his eyes to the ground as he clenched his fists. He inhaled deeply, "...Someone of your stature, I'd wager, someone honorable and interesting."
Sansa got a hold of herself after a moment where she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at him again. He looked more troubled than she had expected, which struck her because he was Podrick Payne and she always thought... what? That because it was him he'd know how to protect his heart? ...and their feelings for each other were the same but... had she not taken his as seriously? ...she had always been more focused on herself, she remarked. "...He's not you." she finally admitted. If there was something she could give Podrick, that was the truth, "The North needs an alliance with the Reach and... Lord Humphrey comes from its most prominent family, he's a good man, at least—" he shook his head as if to stop her from continuing and so she did. "...I'm sorry."
"Well, me too." He replied, seeing her eyes welling it up with tears made everything even worse.
The annoyance and anger in Podrick's voice sounded so odd to her ears that it felt like an attack, something she certainly didn't need right now. There were so many things running through her mind, Humphrey was a good man, but he meant nothing to her, well, as an ally and a friend, perhaps, but not as a man. She felt like her hands were tied; all her fears had reappeared to press on her chest like pangs of anguish, irritation and terror, the thought of the word marriage alone had her falling to pieces, "...This is a nightmare..." she choked out as she felt herself spiraling in despair, and though it wasn't the first time, it was different with him around, Podrick made her feel weak and a part of her resented it, "It's not easy, this is eating at m—" she couldn't even finish the sentence.
Hearing her restrained and painful sob had him turning to see the two guards who peered in to look at them for a second before retreating once more. Podrick didn't know what to do, whether to act cold and aloof or to let her move him and offer her some comfort. To his dismay, the latter won.
He took her by the elbow and dragged her into a small room that he thought would keep them away from prying eyes. And then suddenly, she hugged him strongly as she sobbed on his shoulder. He hugged back, though not as firmly. He felt her sobs wrecking her body harder and harder for a long while before they grew soft. A wave of sympathy enveloped him because even if a part of him was resentful of that marriage, and of her, and of life, to her it meant reliving her worst fears.
And so he was back to being her lap dog as he heard himself whispering encouraging words that would favor his rival despite himself; "he might surprise you and change your mind." "Give it a chance." "Give it time." "You deserve to be happy." "There's nothing wrong with you, you know that." The words were said in a hushed tone; Podrick wanted to provide comfort and advise because she needed it, even if he didn't truly want those things.
When they drew apart enough to be able to look at each other Sansa stared at him silently. She didn't wish to marry anyone... but if it was with Podrick... there'd be nothing to fear, no awful surprises or worrying about schemes and plots at the turn of every corner... she'd know peace. It was an impossible dream... "...You're so good to me..." she was about to cry again but she managed to get a hold of herself. She'd spent the last month caught in a crossroads and when he kissed her head it made things worse. She found herself hugging him tighter to her as she tried to focus on herself and not on what being this close to her was doing to him, "I'm so stupid... it's my duty but it's the one think my entire self is rebelling against."
Podrick stopped talking because there was nothing he could say to make it better for either one of them. When she straightened up again something occurred to him "...Just because you don't want to marry doesn't mean that in the long run that man won't be the one. Third times the charm, they say." He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and she just stared at him. His eyes shut when he saw her closing the distance between them but she only placed a hesitant peck on his cheek before sliding to his mouth; she seemed to reconsidered until the last second because she stopped right on the corner of his lips. A thank-you kiss.
If he didn't know any better he'd think she was playing at tempting him.
She couldn't force herself not to grab him by the shoulder, not to touch him and enjoy his warmth and closeness, "...I've missed your presence, our talks." she admitted averting his eyes, "Your support." She wouldn't fool herself and pretend like it wouldn't make things worse but she continued, "...Join me in the library later, yes?" she asked again, "I'm in need of conversation to stop thinking about all of this, I miss our silly inside jokes..."
Spending time with her was the last thing he should be agreeing to do but, "...You know there's nothing I wish to do more."
Then they fully drew apart.
"Me too." She stated as she wiped her tears, "Although I wished I was in better spirits."
Podrick offered a forced smile as she asked, "Shall we go back to the Great Hall?"
Podrick shook his head, "Let's take a walk first. You look like you've cried."
.
.
.
Podrick left the Great Hall before midnight and after she had retired for the night. He was startled when, after turning over a corridor he found himself face to face with Ser Bronn and a group of other lords.
"Off to get some sleep, Podrick?" he asked sardonically.
"Yes," he lied without slowing down but he felt Bronn following him, "I have to be up at first light tomorrow."
"Oh but what's the rush to go and rest?" he slapped Podrick's back, "...These gentlemen here just asked me to go with them to the best brothel in town and who am I to refuse, eh? You're invited too."
He sighed, "You know I no longer frequent those establishments." he said curtly. Had they been in the way to a tavern, and had he not arranged to meet with her, then he'd agreed but not to a brothel. No need to be led into temptation and gossip.
"You do know you wouldn't be the first Kingsguard to visit those 'establishments', right?
He stopped in his tracks, "Always the same argument with you. Don't you get tired?"
"I'm just waiting for the day you'll say yes," His hand went to grab him between the legs but the Knight was quicker to get away, "so that you show me the prowess of your magic cock." He said in a rushed hush but, unlike in past occasions when his words were met with a complicit grin, this time there was only annoyance. "Oh, don't tell me…you're on your way to bend the knee?" he tried jesting and either Podrick didn't get it or he was playing dumb, "Before your Queen, I mean."
His eyebrows shot up, he never knew what Bronn was going to say next, "I don't have a Queen."
"Yes, you do." he retorted amused before slapping him harshly on the head as he took advantage of his confusion to continue, "I meant bending the knee to pleasure her. To show her all your magic cock can do, you twat." and Podrick's eyes suddenly grew ferocious, or at least as ferocious as he could manage, a second before quickly turning and leaving him to talk to himself. Bronn let out a loud and hearty laugh; given the chance he'd run to her too.
He ran up to him and he pushed him against a wall, which Podrick didn't appreciate at all. But the Kingsguard only pushed Bronn off him gently because he knew he was drunk and that was the reason for his crudeness... though maybe it wasn't.
Bronn grinned; he was in no state to fight anyone, even in jest. Regardless he pushed closer again to slap him gently in the face twice, "Be careful, it doesn't bode well for the men who get involved with her. And I appreciate you, my young friend."
Podrick chuckled softly, his words were as amusing as they were touching, "Thank you, my lord, I appreciate you too. But I've no clue what you're talking about."
"Yes you do."
"No I don't. And whatever it is you're thinking you should stop." His words sounded lame and unbelievable to his own ears.
"All the women in the known world and you had to choose her?" There was a flash on the other man's eyes but he decided to ignore it.
Bronn was riling him up to get information out of him, he knew, and what was worse was that a part of him wanted to talk, to get all his heartbreak off his chest. He practically ran away from his friend after that and not too soon before he opened his mouth.
By the time Podrick made it to the King's private library he realized the Queens' guards had changed shifts and so he stopped to greet Jacob with a shake of his hand as he decided not to dwell on whether the guard would be reading too much into the meeting he'd be having with her. As usual, he found her standing before the shelves that housed the books on Westerosi history. History seemed to be her favorite topic, never fiction. She made her way to a cyvasse board that had been arranged on a table and so he followed suit.
"Some years ago, I started plotting against any possible marriage," she went straight to the point, surprising him, from the raised eyebrows at her abrupt declaration. Or perhaps he was shocked to find her mood had improved, "...I also stumbled upon a piece of information that seemed interesting but never promising enough as for me to really consider it."
He nodded in confusion though somewhat pleased by her turn in mood, by his own turn too, "I'm all ears." he replied encouragingly.
"Nothing came off my plans because of how absurd they were and possibly because they bordered on desperation." Sansa took a seat.
"...And my curiosity only grows," Podrick sat opposite her while she gestured to allow him the first move on the board.
She smiled at his reply, "My first plan was quite naive," as they started playing she told him all about how she'd been looking for any heirs to House Karstark, for any remarkable and noble lord whom she could name as her heir to the throne in case something happened to her, an heir that would be a good fit for the future because she did not wish to marry again. Since she couldn't find anyone worthy, she had tried to find other family names linked to her bloodline and finally she turned to any descendants of her uncle, Brandon Stark, who were said to be plenty and ranged from many walks of life, from peasants to nobles and everything in between but those were only rumors so long forgotten that they were impossible to verify and which had only led to dead ends.
"Your people could have been persuaded to the Karstark plan but as for the others... I'm not convinced they would agree to an heir whose origins could be questioned. And if they're not from a great house..." He could only imagine what could be said if she brought in a commoner, an uneducated bastard spawned by her uncle.
That was exactly what the handful of people she had shared her plans with had said. "If you think that was absurd then you'll laugh at this." She took a deep breath to push through the awkwardness, "did you ever notice that I always visited the libraries of all the keeps where I stayed?"
Podrick nodded, "...I thought you went there looking for peace and quiet..."
"Sometimes." She licked her lips, "But in truth I was trying to find out if a story Jon told me once was true, one that a wildling told him... It was a story about a King from beyond the Wall... it happened centuries ago." She explained at his confusion, "His name was Bael the Bard. An ancestor of mine, Brandon Stark, heard about all his feats and called him craven. To spite him and to show-off his courage, Bael climbed the Wall and made his way to Winterfell where he passed for a singer who ended up singing for the castle's lord until midnight."
Podrick was listening intently but as soon as she was about to move to get them a cup of wine he stood first and handed one to her before she went on, "The lord was quite impressed with the bard's voice and to reward him, he simply asked what he wanted, the answer was that he wished for the most beautiful blue rose from Winterfell's gardens. Since the roses were in bloom, Lord Stark agreed to give it to him. The next morning, Brandon's daughter, his sole heir, was gone, only a blue rose in her place was in her bed.
She paused to savor the wine, "Don't stop there," he said obviously curious, "though I can imagine nothing good happens now." as it was usual.
She shook her head, "It's just a story from the free folk, one of their songs."
"It's a song?" Podrick asked showing even more interest.
"Yes, but only really known to the people beyond the Wall. Every time we visit a castle, I keep looking for any mention of it in the book but so far I've found nothing."
"And your brother, Bran? ...He could easily verify the story, couldn't he?"
"...Yes but... you know I don't like asking him too many favors..." she admitted, and besides, it wasn't a thing of importance, "anyways... as you expected, Lord Brandon sent the Night Watch to look for them beyond the wall but they couldn't be found. Just like now, the Stark bloodline was on the brink of extinction but then one random morning the young lady suddenly appeared in her chamber with a babe in her arms. They had never left Winterfell, they'd only hidden in the crypt. And Baels's bastard from Lord Brandon's daughter became the next Lord Stark."
Podrick nodded along until he suddenly realized what she might be getting at with that story.
"That would have been a good enough ending," she continued, "until some decades later Bael led an army of wildings south where he had to fight his own son. And since he was unable to kill his kin, he let the son kill him. The son brought Bael's head back to Winterfell and when his mother's eyes set on the horrid trophy, the man she had loved once, she threw herself from the highest tower."
It wasn't the unhappy ending what reverberated in his mind, "...Are you telling me that you've been considering..." he wasn't sure how to phrase it and he ended up mumbling and reddening.
She blushed in turn, "hmmm... Just because I don't want to wed doesn't mean I don't want children. A Family..."
They had spoken about her wanting a family of her own but not that she had considered the possibility of siring a bastards; he had to think very well what he'd say next, "...No but... going about it like that would go against tradition… against the kind of woman you are..." It was unfathomable, Sansa Stark was the very definition of a proper lady.But she did say it had been a ridiculous idea, something she obviously hadn't gone through with, and yet it was so shocking it wasn't easy to dismiss, "What made you change your mind?"
What he had just said, "I can't do that, I wish I could but I just can't."
Podrick nodded as he wondered how she'd do that… if she would have opted to go with the traditional route or if she'd try any other method where she wouldn't have to actively lay with a man… and if th–
"Don't you think about it!" She exclaimed as she softly slapped him on the wrist as she could see the cogs in his head working. It was the first time that she managed to pull a real smile from him during this visit, an embarrassed smile that she mirrored.
A few seconds later Podrick couldn't help himself, "...I well…feel like I must put my name forth if you do reconsider and break your betrothal." He said in jest and quickly dismissing it but then her cheeks flushed and her smile didn't completely fade while her eyes actually darkened.
She felt a not entirely unwelcome pang in her lower abdomen, and she went along jokingly despite her embarrassment, "I'll keep that in mind."
Podrick tried to shake the thought away but it was useless, his own body betrayed him as he hardened, "Anyway... I can only imagine Lord Harry's face if he ever found out about your plans." He added, "...Or everyone's face in Westeros if you went through with it."
"...I've never considered it seriously... I can't gamble with my reputation like that." But then Sansa couldn't really know how much people actually knew about little Brandon Stark, ward of her brother, the King.
Deciding not to dwell too much on the matter, and still sporting his smile, he continued, "Remember we said that if we ever met again we'd go on an outing together?" And a nagging thought had him wondering what her betrothed would think of her leaving with him. Or what the King would say about him exposing her to an attack just because he was selfish and wanted to spend some time with her.
She nodded, wishing she could refuse while knowing she couldn't.
"Well, there is a cliff nearby, it's a gorgeous place and I don't believe you've ever visited before–"
"I don't want to encourage you, Podrick." she admitted head on, which immediately deflated him.
"I know, and I don't want you to... that's not what this is." He licked his lips as he realized she could see through the utter bull that was, "Well, not entirely. But I would like to spend time with you, just for a bit of company and good conversation. A farewell, if you will." Especially because once the betrothal was announced, then she'd become truly unattainable to him.
"...It's not like we're never going to see each other again." She meant to sound flippant but it fell flat to both their ears.
"You know what I mean," he said seriously as he held her gaze. Oh, she better not dare invite him to her wedding... though if the King was in attendance –which he doubted–, he'd have no choice but to go. It was then that he wished with all his heart that she would marry while he was in Essos so that he didn't have to think or hear a word about it.
"...Podrick..." she wanted to apologize, to hold his hand to offer any comfort but she didn't.
"...Come on," he urged, "this isn't easy for either one of us but maybe," he let out a puff of air, "maybe being outdoors will help. Maybe it'll help you clear your mind for a bit."
It was dire how little it took for him to convince her, and so Sansa agreed, fully aware that this wasn't a good idea, "I've got a tight schedule but," she rubbed her thumb nervously, "let me see what I can do."
"I'll be waiting, then." Pod nodded knowing that due to her longing stare she wouldn't keep him waiting long, that she wanted to spend time with him as well, "I don't think I need to add that the groom is not invited." A second after he said it, they gave each other a short serious, earnest look before his lips curled up in a confident grin, "Right! Now tell me about Snow, I was expecting to have run into him by now."
"...The trip was too much for the poor thing and the heat is killing him."
"Want to bet as soon as he sees me he'll forget all about his woes?" he japed and she chuckled, "and what about your nephew, have you met him yet?"
"...Not yet... and why do you people insist on calling him my nephew when you know he isn't?"
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The next morning Tyrion would remember how he was making his drunkenly path to his chambers with Ser Bronn, not that he knew where the lord had come up from because he had gone to the whores with a group of lords he had wanted to impress. As they passed a particular corridor, they saw two of the Queen's Guards stood at the library's entrance.
Surely, as it came on sight, Tyrion's eyed couldn't help but wonder inside to see who she was meeting so late at night and he saw her with Ser Podrick just sitting in front of a table talking about something that appeared to be very amusing because they were laughing as they sipped wine.
Even Bronn was surprised by the late, or rather early, hour, it was almost dawn, which led him to believe that those two had been there speaking since midnight and he decided to interject as soon as he saw the concern replace Tyrion's drunken smile, "It is my duty, as your most intimate and true friend and colleague to regrettably inform you that your former wife seems to be lusting after that magic appendix..." he mocked, "or in lay terms, heads up! Your former wife wants to ride that magic cock…As you see my lord, I can refine my speech to fit in with your pansy lordings but in the end, no matter how it's phrased, the meaning remains and I bet it stings."
Tyrion stopped himself from rolling his eyes but he mumbled incredulous as they went on their way since he didn't wish to confide the sell-sword-turned-lord with his own suspicions, but it was hard not to read too much when Sansa's own discretion was slipping under everyone's noses, "That's not like Sansa..."
"...Your beautiful and haughty bride with the man you consider a friend... a ward... I'm sure it doesn't sting... what does it feel like, then?"
This time his eyes did roll inside his head, "Tell me Ser Bronn, are you always quite this insidious?"
"Particularly when drunk... but trust me," he pointed behind them, "those two are fucking."
That last word in association with Sansa was bothersome but he tried to shake it with amusement, "If they were, they'd be locked inside some room and not with her Queensguard around in an open library... I can't think of a worse place to engage in... the act."
But Tyrion wasn't fooling him, and so Bronn kept pushing, "Nuh-uh, if they're not fucking yet, they will be at the slightest chance, you mark my words. Or better yet, let's bet on it."
Always gold with this one, "And you got all of that from what we just saw?"
"No, I got all of that from her; though the entire North seems to worship the ground she walks, she has a reputation for being difficult, cold and aloof and that's not the impression she gave me tonight. Are you going to pretend that you didn't see the doe eyes those two were throwing at each other?"
"...She's neither cold nor aloof with me."
"But does she also give you doe eyes?"
He thought about it and their moment in the crypts came to mind but It had been so long since, "...Once or twice."
Yeah, right! Bronn laughed, "Your former squire is about to have your former wife screaming in pleasure with his magic cock."
Once more he found himself perturbed by the manner in which the other man talked about the Queen, "Sansa is not that kind of–" he shook his head. "And besides, Podrick keeps to his oath–"
"And you really think that Podrick Fucken Payne, or any other man for that matter, would reject a woman like her when she's willingly spreading her legs for him?"
"That's enough!" Bronn's crude words were doing nothing to settle his worries, "I'll have to ask you to refer to her with more respect. She's a lady. Your King's sister.
"...Well, ladies also fuck men they aren't married to, and I'd go as far as to say that more passionately than they fuck their husbands. You would've fucked her when you were married...had she let you." He made a face as Tyrion was about to retort before he thought it better, "...You know it's the truth."
"You don't know Sansa Stark, Lord Bronn, she's not only a full-fledged lady but... her experience with men hasn't been the best." That's why he was more inclined to protest so forcefully. Out of respect.
"That's right Lord Tyrion, she probably heard all about the fuken' magic cock and who better to make her forget all those bad experiences?"
Tyrion took a deep breath, "Lord Bronn–"
"I mean... it doesn't even have to be the magic cock, Podrick Fucking Payne's mouth works wonders too. He told me that once, in confidence. To be frank I find the act repulsive but–"
"Lord Bronn," he interrupted exasperated, "I'd appreciate it if we drop the subject."
"Why?" he laughed, "Does it sting?"
Tyrion just let out a breath before he went on his way without another word.
"You should have expected that someone else would be fucking her, she's quite pretty. The prettiest in Westeros, they say." He added to annoy him even more, "why don't we both go to the brothel and request two girls who look like her? And while we're there we can toast with the whores to our Podrick Fucking Payne, aghhh that boy makes me proud! Look at him, going where no man has gone before…" and once again he cut of the coming reply, "and don't make that face, I meant her heart."
"I'm sure you did." Tyrion went into his room, poured and downed some wine and threw himself on the bed. When he heard noise behind him he turned to see that Bronn had followed him inside and was making himself comfortable at the table. "I wish to rest, Lord Bronn."
But the man paid him no mind and instead took a gulp from his own cup, "Now seriously, meddling with her is foolish. If I am right, and I think I am, then I'm worried about Podrick."
Tyrion stared at the ceiling thoughtfully, "Neither the North nor her are open-minded enough to accept something like... the friendships that Podrick is used to keeping." To add insult to injury she was betrothed to another, officially now, since he had heard that Lord Humphrey had introduced her to his parents that very afternoon... or had it been the day before?
He sighed, "Oh that's not what I meant. I meant that every man who gets entangled with her ends up dead." Tyrion furrowed his brows about to speak but as usual he cut him off, "you don't count. You're a dead man walking. At least you're drinking again but no fucking? That's why you're a miserable cunt."
"Ugh!" he complained, "Go to bed Lord Bronn, or stay but be quiet." he heard a burst of laughter behind him. Sansa shouldn't be spending time alone with a man who wasn't family at this hour, even with her Guards present. She should know better. Her lords and groom-to-be wouldn't take to it kindly. And what of her brother? "I'll ask you to refrain from making these comments around the other lords, not only her reputation is at stake but our good friend's as well." he tried to make a final appeal to Bronn's won fondness for Podrick.
"If neither of them care then why should I?"
"You've no loyalty, do you?"
"You'll say that to our good friend, though?" he continued, still finding amusement in the whole mess, "What will you say to her?" The guttural sound that Tyrion made in reply served to inform him that that had been the last he'd say. But then Bronn remembered something and he slapped his friend on the back roughly, "What will you say to the Lord Commander? If you don't like the look of this then she either..."
Ser Brienne and Lord Bronn were as respectful to each other as they roles demanded but they weren't too fond of each other and he could see why he'd find her reaction amusing; oh, this was going to go badly. After a few minutes his companion's voice turned more serious.
"Do you think the King knows?"
Tyrion refused to give it another thought.
"Podrick fucken' Payne played us all." Those were the last words Tyrion remembered hearing before falling asleep.
The following afternoon, after Ser Podrick wheeled the King from the day's last meeting, Tyrion caught Lady Barbrey whispering something into Lord Humphrey's ear which prompted the man to follow Podrick with his eyes as he passed him by; he considered the knight as his eyes swept him from head to toe before he seemingly dismissed him as a worthy opponent with a smug smile before he turned back to continue his conversion with a group of Stormlands' lords. Tyrion needed only to look at Sansa to see that she had been paying close attention to the not-quite exchange.
Tyrion looked back at the lord and their eyes met in a less that serendipitous manner and he remarked on how the man straightened his spine but made no effort in approaching him, so Tyrion did. Everything he kept hearing about the youngest Hightower was great, which was suspicious in and of itself. During a short chat, he found out that he had spent most of his life abroad but that he kept friends everywhere, and he could see how Sansa would find that useful. He was educated. Refined. Handsome. Impeccable. And self-assured enough that Tyrion could see why it was so easy for him to dismiss Podrick at a glance. Another look to the Queen to find her attention on them as they spoke. Tyrion bowed at her in acknowledgement and she did the same.
She most certainly had already checked his background two or three times around.And surely, had the King seen something remotely damming he would have warned her. And knowing him, the King's reasoning was less influenced by her being family and more by the fact that harmony between the Six Kingdoms and the North relied on her.
.
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"I know what's been going through that mind of yours ever since he left Winterfell. What was there even before." The dead queen taunted, "if you want to have him, tell him. He'll be happy to oblige."
"You don't know how... but you shouldn't bother with seductions. Just tell him to pay you a visit at night, he'll know what for."
"He's a patient one. He waited a whole year for only three meager kisses. He'll surely wait for you to be ready now, little dove, but time is running out."
"You have a chance to find out what it feels like with someone you love. It's not a hard choice to make. Especially since you'll have to spread your legs for someone else soon."
"There's no reason to fear. You won't have to relive your past, you can be sure of that."
"Most times, the deed is not all it's made out to be, anyway."
"You mustn't wait until your last night here to ask him; you'll regret it."
Sansa was plagued by the words spoken by the Cersei from her dreams as she stared at the ceiling above her room in the dark. She wanted to make nothing of her words... and she wanted to heed them. She'd no longer agonize over it.
She knew that she hadn't been ready two years ago. And maybe she still wasn't quite there. But unlike before, she felt curious enough to find out if she was. But it would mean playing with Podrick. And yet, she wanted to know what it would feel like to be treated well, to be with someone she loved and who loved her back.
She wanted heed them even if the words sounded bizarre coming from the Cersei. Cersei was always vicious. But oddly enough she wasn't being vicious now. And Sansa didn't know what that could mean. The Cersei in her dreams only appeared when she was going through heavy bouts of stress, she'd come to torment her in the only place she could find some respite, her dreams.
She dreaded the feeling that appeared in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure whether it was anticipation at the thought of meeting Podrick again or because Cersei's unusually good disposition could only be a bringer of doom. It was probably the latter. She had learned to trust her instincts
Unsettled as she was, she sat up in bed, her chest filled with apprehension. She heard Snow standing at the door and walking to lay at her feet, "I can't sleep here." She said aloud. Ever since she stepped back in Kings Landing she hadn't gotten a full night's sleep. All her ghosts were haunting her. The shorts bout of rest she had gotten had resulted from having Lady Rose in the room with her.
She didn't feel safe on her own. Not here.
And the next thing she knew she was going in a downward spiral of loneliness and fear.
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The next morning, Sansa was walking alongside Lady Rose and Lady Cromwell when the young woman called her attention to the side of the yard where two septas escorted by two Kingsguards were holding a baby.
"That's your nephew, right, My Queen?"
It struck Sansa that the young lady was much more excited than her as they approached the women. When they stopped right in front of them, the septas curtsied.
"Do you wish to hold the child, Your Grace?" asked the oldest of the two women.
Sansa hesitated, "...Yes... I'd be delighted to... just... I can't remember the last time I held a babe." She admitted, and what seemed like an obstacle to her seemed to amuse the other women. She flashed them a fake smile.
Lady Rose came close first and the septas looked wary until the Queen nodded to convey that it was fine. She took him carefully in her arms and she turned him towards the Queen and she uncovered his little face but her eyes darted to the Queen who stared at the boy for a moment.
Sansa had expected to find a blond child, like his mother and grandmother, but his hair was brown and his eyes a dark shade of hazel set on a long face, a clean nose and a perfect set of eyebrows and mouth, all of his features were nice. You could say he was a Stark. 'Oh what a cute little thing you are…' she heard Lady Rose say as she lay him on her arms while one of her hands settled on his chest and she looked at him adoringly just before he smiled the loveliest smile there was. Sansa studied him; he was about a year old and he was cute, "Yes…you are quite precious." She said trying to sound nonchalant.
Looking at babies didn't move her as much as it once did but this one had a certain something. Maybe it was knowing that Stark blood ran through his veins. She knew that it was expected of her to be more loving and to want to hold him in her arms but she simply didn't know how to, and she didn't feel like it either, so instead of touching him, she turned to the septas as Lady Cromwell too, tickled the boy. "Is he walking already? does he talk yet?"
"He can pull himself up and take steps with our help. But he doesn't speak yet, ma'am." one of the women answered.
After a moment, Lady Rose put him down and took him by the hand to help him walk. "Take his other hand, My Queen." she suggested as the boy started to take small steps.
"Be careful, the last thing we need is for the King's ward to fall over." Sansa warned making Lady Rose stop and consider it, which amused her, prompting her to come closer and though she hovered over them for a few minutes, she never came too close to the kid. But she did study him. She already was as old as her mother had been when she had Rickon. Those thoughts unsettled her and she tried to push them aside.
At some point, Lady Cromwell remarked on Snow, who was coming their way looking imposing, "Lift him up, Lady Rose." Sansa instructed, not even she trusted the wolf's nature enough to let him around the child.
"He's never attacked a child." Lady Cromwell clarified for the Guards and the Septas who were visibly worried by the presence of the animal, "But better safe than sorry. It's a wild creature, after all."
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Lady Cromwell didn't usually attend meetings outside her own castle but she had come to Kings Landing to spend more time with her husband, who she didn't see that often, even when they were up in the North. At the moment they were taking a walk along one of the second level balconies when she spotted a man stopping to approach the Queen directly and in a friendly manner, even through the distance, the smiles in their faces told her everything she needed to know, it was in every gesture, their complicity, the way they looked at each other, the unprompted distance between them and her Queensguard... "Am I wrong to assume that that man is our Queen's own Podrick Payne?"
Lord Cromwell looked to the yard before emitting a long tired sigh as he felt nothing but dread for what this reunion might bring, "how can you tell?" It wasn't like Ser Podrick was wearing his armor. He had seen him wearing plainclothes more often than his armor in these past days, unlike his comrades. And his wife claimed not to remember Ser Podrick from her visits to Winterfell so her conclusion was quite astonishing to him.
Lady Cromwell grinned, wasn't it obvious?
Lord Cromwell looked around to see who else could be witnessing the meeting and thank the gods, there weren't many people around and least of all from the North, "...and he's nothing of our Queen's."
"...If that's so, our Queen's behavior is tarnishing her reputation over nothing, which is quite unlike her." her eyes turned away from them. Even now she thought that all the gossip in the North lacked credence but with things like this display the Queen was making it hard for her to keep on believe that.
Well, this display and maybe that whispered exchange between her husband and one of her guards earlier; it seemed like the Queen and the Knight had spent the night in a library close to the King's chambers, a place to which only a selected few had access. That meant that there had been no eyes on them. And it also meant that they did nothing but talk, since the doors remained open but still, entertaining men alone until dawn wasn't like a decent woman to do. She witnessed them saying goodbye after only a few minutes, "and you might say he's nothing of hers but she obviously cares for him."
He didn't need this coming from his wife too, "She's marrying someone else." He reminded her grumpily; his wife was one of the few people, other than the Queen's advisers, who knew about the engagement.
"And the fact remains that her truly chosen one is the Kingsguard," she smiled at the look of annoyance her husband threw at her.
"Be that as it may, she knows that Ser Podrick Payne hasn't the means to become her equal."
Was he husband blind?! "He's her equal in her eyes... which is enough."
"Not in the North's eyes. And it's by the North's will that she rules."
"Oh, did all the lords and ladies take a vote for and against the knight and somehow I missed it?" She asked sardonically?
His wife's sense of humor was the thing that had struck him the must upon first meeting her. She'd joke around and make him laugh to ease his worries but at the moment he wasn't in the mood for it, "Whose side are you on, woman?"
"Why, the Queen's, of course." she replied cryptically, "no matter what, shouldn't all of us Northerners be on her side?"
"Well, she's made her choice. Lord Humphrey Hightower. A magnificent choice and a welcome partner to the North."
She conceded that, "He's quite handsome, at least there's that, she'll get a pretty face to look at."
"And the day after tomorrow she'll finally introduce him to the King." She had stalled and delayed the meeting until she had run out of excuses for it.
"I wonder what the King will think if all of this comes to light. So far, here in the south no one seems to know about the Queen and the Knight."
"A Kingsguard who'd break the King's trust? That's unforgivable." One, two, three beats of his heart as a new concern materialized, "...He'd be dismissed from the Kingsguard."
"And what of the Queen? What would she do?" She asked sensing he already knew and dreaded the answer.
"She'd... have him join her guard... after a while." he murmured.
"And if this were to happen before she is wed?"
Lord Cromwell sighed.