Previously on The Player of the Games: Tyrion announces his arrival in King's Landing. Natasha is appointed as Sansa's protector. Alessandra hosts the wildling at the wall.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Game of Thrones.
Chapter 15: Letter
*Daenerys Targaryen*
A ruler never shows weakness. That is something Dany has always lived by. Nobody told her that. It was just something that Dany kept telling herself once she figured out that she inherited the blood of the dragon.
Somehow, the same sentence seems applicable to her situation. She doesn't know how many times she has repeated it to herself while trying to bring order in the Khalasar. How could her husband, the great and mighty Khal Drogo, leave her to fend for herself? How could he lay there, unmoving and cold, while she tries her best to keep her emotions in check? It is as if the Dothraki did not realize that the young Targaryen has lost so much. Daenerys Targaryen, a young lady of seventeen, lost her husband and unborn babe in a small matter of time. She can only call the Dothraki insensitive for expecting her to run the Khalasar instead of grieving.
Severe is their need for a ruler that they follow the young Targaryen anywhere she goes. Dany can only wish for a moment of privacy so that she can send a letter to her friends. As much as Dany would like to ask for the guardians' help, she knows that it would be a burden for them to help her collect the armies that she will need to take over Westeros—not counting the alliances that she has to gain inside the Seven Kingdoms.
No, Dany decides. She will tell them that she is now running the Khalasar; that she grieves for the death of her husband and child but finds comfort as the mother of the dragons. That would probably reassure them that she is well. She just hopes that they would be a little more patient before they send a guardian for her. She must the impression of a dominant ruler instead of a barren widow.
The fire-breathers beside her aim for her attention. Dany only spares them a glance before turning back to her deceased husband. The powerful Khal Drogo is reduced to a rotting corpse in the red waste. The only thing that Dany wishes is to turn back time and give birth outside of the tent so that the woman who claims to be able to bring her husband back can actually do the task.
"Khaleesi, there is nothing that you can do. He's dead" Jorah Mormont, the only man that Dany can seem to trust, says.
Dany doesn't stand up even though her knees are already protesting from the pain inflicted by the rocks. "He is my husband"
"But he is dead" She knows that he means well but could not help the rage from emerging inside of her. The feeling is gone when he explains the reason for his interruption. "The Dothraki are exhausted. The food is gone, so is the water"
"I cannot just leave him" She hates how her voice quivers in the end.
"You are their Khaleesi" He counters. "They need you, Daenerys. The women and children are starving. The men's energy is deflating"
This seems to bring her out of her state. Dany stands up slowly, suddenly feeling the weariness overcoming her petite figure. She shakes off the feeling and turns to the watchful Dothraki. She orders the best riders, using their language, to ride to different routes. They are not to return until they find cities that will feed the Khalasar and find out what lies beyond the scorching heat of the red waste. The three men disperse, gathering the needed supplies and using their best horses.
Daenerys watches as they ride off in different directions, praying to the gods for their safety. She clutches her stomach in a sudden impulse. No. No. She reminds herself that her babe is gone…so is her husband. She is her own family.
One of her dragons rubs its scaly head on her bare leg. Dany bends down, running her hand through the dragon's body. She might be alone, but she has an advantage to take over Westeros. One day, she promises herself. One day, she will finally go home.
*Jaime Lannister*
"Your sister's fine, wolf king" Or at least she was before Jaime left King's Landing. The images of the red-haired beauty fill his mind. Jaime feels guilty for picking a sixteen-year-old girl as his rock instead of his lover…his twin…his other half. Until now, he still doesn't know why he looked for her as soon as it was announced that he was to join his father in battle. He becomes more baffled as he remembers the kiss that he bestowed on her forehead and the way it roused him when she demanded his return to King's Landing. It was almost as if they were lovers in desperate need to be in always in each other's side. Well, Jaime concluded, I certainly do not feel any fatherly instinct towards her.
"How would you know that, Kingslayer?" Robb Stark's face hardens.
Jaime likes his head far too much for it to roll ten feet away from him. It probably isn't the right time to mention his attraction towards Lady Sansa Stark. "We're…acquaintances"
"Have you lured Arya with swords?"
Confusion fills Jaime. "Arya?" Then it dawns on him. Robb Stark thinks that Sansa is too much of a lady to trifle with him. The smirk on his face widens. "I was talking about Lady Sansa, King of the North"
"That's a bluff. Sansa would never—" The young king isn't able to finish his thoughts before Jaime cuts him.
"Socialize with a handsome knight such as myself?" Jaime Lannister is enjoying this too much for his own good. "Are you jealous, King of the North, of your own sister? Is that why you bring me caged from camp to camp? I must say, I'm not surprised. I've never seen you with a girl before"
The wolf king rolls his Tully eyes and replies, "If I left you with one of my bannermen, your father would know within a fortnight and my bannerman will receive a message: 'Release my son and you'll be rich beyond your dreams. Refuse and your house will be destroyed, root and stem'" Robb Stark becomes a wiser king than Robert Baratheon in that moment.
"You don't trust the loyalty of the men following you into battle?" Jaime challenges.
"I trust them with my life" It seems as if Eddard Stark is present in the shit-filled cage. "Just not with yours"
"Smart boy" Jaime finds himself saying. No doubt Ned has taught his son a thing or two before his untimely demise. Robb's jaw clenches at the title Jaime gave him. "What's wrong? Don't like being called a boy? Insulted?"
The atmosphere changes darkly, filling Jaime with dread. A loud snarl is enough to change his teasing mood into regret. His body jumps in instinct when catches a sight of grey and white from his peripheral vision. The huge, growling direwolf soon reveals itself, standing beside Robb Stark.
"You insult yourself, Kingslayer" Robb Stark says to him, slowly and icily. The north has never fitted the young king as much as it does now. "You've been defeated by a boy…you're held captive by a boy…perhaps you'll be killed by a boy" The direwolf bares all of its teeth, as if grinning at Jaime—giving him the promise of its sharp canines pressed on the delicate neck of the proud Lannister.
"Stannis Baratheon sent ravens to all the high lords of Westeros" The King of the North pets the direwolf, managing to stop the snarling and growling of the beast. "King Joffrey Baratheon is neither a true king, nor a true Baratheon—he's your son"
Jaime tears his eyes away from the intimidating beast and places it on the triumphant eyes of the wolf king. "If that's true, Stannis is the true king. How convenient for him"
"My father learned the truth. That's why he was executed"
"I was your prisoner when Ned Stark lost his head" Jaime remembers how much he wanted to remove the chains surrounding his hands and go back to King's Landing. Not just to beat the living shit out of his bastard son but mostly to comfort Sansa.
"Your son killed him just so the world wouldn't know who fathered him" That's where you're wrong, wolf king. Joffrey doesn't know anything. It is all Cersei's doing. "And you, you pushed my brother from a window when he saw you with the queen"
He tries to hide his surprise. How could Robb Stark achieve such information? "You have proof? Or do you want to trade gossips like a couple of fishwives?"
The young king is obviously not amused since he changes the subject. "I'm sending out one of my cousins down to King's Landing with my peace terms"
"You think my father's going to negotiate with you?" Tywin Lannister would not lower himself to send an agreement with a young king. "You don't know him very well"
Robb shakes his head. "No, but he's starting to know me"
Jaime decides that this is the time to push his luck. "Three victories doesn't make you a conqueror"
"It's better than three defeats" And with that, Robb Stark pushes the beast forward. Tywin Lannister would not be pleased when he sees his mighty son be reduced to a shitting coward in front of a tamed beast.
*Sansa Stark*
It confuses Sansa on why she felt a sudden rush of triumph when she witnessed the look on Cersei's face after Tyrion Lannister gave her the letter from Ser Jaime. The imp had interrupted breakfast, whistling as he carelessly waved the sealed letter in his hands. They seal was of a lion and, much to everyone's surprise, it landed directly on Sansa's lap. Her cheeks colored, having an idea as to who was the sender. She would have excused herself if the queen had not ordered for her to read it.
"Open the letter, little dove" Cersei said, her voice oozing with fake curiosity.
Sansa hurriedly followed the queen's orders, quietly enraged at sharing the private message. "To the Lady Wolf, Sansa Stark: Gone were the days when I carelessly strolled on the gardens of King's Landing with you in my arm. Now if I wish to take a stroll in the forest outside Lord Lannister's camp, that would mean that I want to end my life—perhaps being brutally butchered with a fountain of blood coming out of my neck—" Sansa stops reading. The next few words become too personal and she is sure that Cersei would order her execution if she says the next words out loud. Seeing the queen now…Sansa could only shiver in dread. The usually blank face of Cersei Lannister changes into one of pure hatred and jealousy. Prince Joffrey is glaring at the piece of parchment as if he can burn the written words with his glare.
"Well," The imp breaks the uncomfortable silence and lets his word hang. A small smile is on his face as he takes a sip of his spiced wine.
The queen's icy demeanor appears to have doubled after hearing Tyrion's amusement. "You were not invited here, little brother"
There is a soft gurgle sound coming from the imp's intake of wine. Sansa would have laughed if not for Cersei's heated glares armed towards her. Putting aside Cersei's bitter aura, the young Stark is glad that Tyrion Lannister does not harbor negative feelings towards her. "Cheer up, sister. Our brother only meant to be nice to Lady Sansa. After all, she was all he could talk about when he and I were at father's camp"
Sansa feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Has Ser Jaime really done such a thing? She grabs a fork from the table and proceeds to poke on her bacon. She plays with her food for a while before finally succumbing to the heavenly taste of the food.
"Jaime is a knight, Sansa. His vows do not allow him to marry," Then the queen had to ruin the moment with the obvious fact. Sansa's flattered demeanor vanishes and is replaced by shame. She casts her blue eyes on her lap, not daring to make any eye contact with the people present around the table.
A snort escapes Tyrion. "Who said anything about marriage, sister? You're overreacting."
This is shortly followed by Joffrey's scandalous question, "Do you want to fuck my uncle, Lady Sansa?"
Sansa quickly looks up in alarm. Tears start to well on her eyes. "No, your Grace. I would never—"
"You foolish boy!" Scolds the imp, putting his wine down on the table with such force that wine spills in different directions. "You ask such things to your betrothed? Do you not trust her loyalty to you? To the royal family?"
The prince is ready to strike down his uncle but Cersei stops him, placing a commanding hand on his arm. "Joffrey, sit!" Then she gazes at Tyrion, her face void of emotion. "Lady Sansa's father is a traitor to the realm. It would not be surprising if she turns her back to the throne soon"
Sansa clasps her hands together, her knuckles turning white from holding them too strong. It is her only resort to grabbing Cersei's golden locks and pulling at them until each strand falls on the ground.
"Sansa has denounced her family, calling them traitors. She stays here in King's Landing instead of escaping to the North. She still agrees to marry your poor excuse of a son even though she has seen that the level of monstrous acts that he can do. Does that not tell how loyal the young Lady Stark is to you?" Sansa can almost kiss Tyrion Lannister for being her hero. No one, except for Jaime, has spoken on her behalf. It makes her feel like someone is looking out for her once again.
Sansa feels the food that she has digested come up her throat. She wipes her mouth with a cloth before standing up. "May I be excused?" She does not bother to wait for their reply before finally walking out of the room.
From now on, she will order her servants to bring her morning food at her chambers.
*~*~*POTG~*~*~
To the lady wolf, Sansa Stark:
Gone were the days when I carelessly strolled on the gardens of King's Landing with you in my arm. Now if I wish to take a stroll in the forest outside Lord Lannister's camp, that would mean that I want to end my life—perhaps being brutally butchered with a fountain of blood coming out of my neck. There it is. A small grimace overcoming your beautiful face. You were never the one to indulge in my crass words.
I am usually not the one for formalities, such as letters. I find them to be too sentimental and, to be frank, feminine. So why do I write such a letter for you? You bring a new Jaime Lannister, Sansa. I would do anything to see you once more.
Your Knight,
Jaime
She doesn't know how many times she has read the letters. Who knew that the mighty Kingslayer could put such romantic words on a letter? If Sansa closes her eyes, she can almost see the shine of the sun on his golden head, she can almost feel the soft bulge of his muscles beneath his armour as they take a stroll on the gardens. She hid the letter from the prying eyes of Cersei, grabbing a soft cloth and wrapping the parchment safely before putting it in a small space between the walls.
Her day has been uneventful. After the mind-hurting breakfast, Sansa has succumbed to the confinement of her bedchamber. She sits at the small window stall, watching the waves roll around the shore and back to the sea. The South is different from the North. The North is too cold for the bodies of water to roll into waves. The closest that Sansa could get into a body of water was the short summer that the gods has bestowed when she was a mere child.
Sansa doesn't hear them come inside her bedchamber. Maybe she was too busy staring off into space to notice the slight creak of the door. She turns around, catching sight of them from the window in front of her. Without warning, she flings herself in Jon's arms. She notes how she's been hugging him more these past few days than she did her whole life. Her brother's black clothes are gone and replaced by blue robes that any highborn man in King's Landing would wear. Jon is wrong. The color black is not the only color that suits him.
"Are you alright? Did anybody recognize you?" A series of worrisome questions escape her mouth. She fusses over Jon's unruly clothes, ignoring the look of amusement that she is getting from the Lady Nathalia and another woman.
Jon grabs her hands, resting them on her sides. "I'm alright, Sansa. It's yourself that you should worry about"
She rolls her eyes and mutters a soft assurance of her well-being.
"Let me introduce someone to you," Her half-brother says, taking her hand softly and turning her in the direction of Lady Nathalia's friend. "This is Lady Natasha"
The small woman rolls her blue eyes, "I am no lady, Snow" Then she stares at Sansa. She looks at her up and down, as if calculating the amount of effort that she has to make to protect the young lady. Sansa does the same, noticing the familiarity in the features of Lady Natasha and Lady Nathalia.
"You are sisters," She comments absentmindedly, blushing prettily when she realizes that she had said her thoughts out loud.
Lady Natasha chuckles, finding no fault in Sansa's words. "You are very observant. Jon almost fainted at the fact when Nathalia introduced me to him"
Now it is Sansa's turn to laugh at her brother. The thought of Jon fainting is uncharacteristically unlike him. Her half brother scowls at the woman, not amused by the words being said.
"Are you done?" He asks, grimacing at the small woman.
Lady Natasha grins. "Not quite," Then she steps forward, grabbing Sansa's hand on her own. "My sister told me that you might be in need of someone to protect you?"
Sansa nods. With Tyrion Lannister and Lady Natasha present, she can almost sigh in relief of not being left alone with the queen and his son.
SORRY SORRY SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR SO LONG! I've been busy with school. All of the scenes have been written in a piece of paper and this is the only time that I've been able to type them on the computer. I promise more frequent updates. This story is very far from being done. I hope you continue supporting it even though I am a crappy updater.
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Anonymous: I am so glad that you like this hehe
Purbunhaze: Thank you for the most amazing review that I have ever received! I got so inspired to write when I read your comment. I hope that this chapter is alright for you. Cheers, friend!
Next: Nathalia and Jon say their farewells to Sansa.