Willem Samelson

I was starting to enjoy my time in King's Landing. I still refused to drink anything not poured into another's cup first, but it was not the worst place to heal.

I did rest the first few days, but I hated to be in bed long. I spent as much time as I could with Sansa, but that had become more difficult. Joffrey seemed to notice my interest, which certainly peeked his. That was the only irritation I had to deal with other than my shoulder.

"May I escort you back to your chamber, my lady?" I asked.

Supper had quieted a great deal, and Joffrey had been pleasantly called away by his mother for a few moments, so I took my chance.

"Please," she answered, taking my arm.

"So you do like King's Landing?" I asked as we took a long way around.

"It's lovely. There is so much color. and I must admit I don't miss the cold."

With an easy smile, I agreed, "No, I expect not. I do miss Plenair, though."

"And what is it like?"

"Not quite as warm. Apart from our chambers and kitchens, much of the castle was built to open up to the air itself."

An idea struck me as we talked, and I pulled her from the halls toward one of the open bridges. We stepped into the night, looking up at the dark sky and stars shining above us.

I leaned closer to her, "If we were at my home, we would be able to see these constellations nearly anywhere."

Sansa smiled, turning to face me, "I would love to see it."

I returned her smile, "I hope you will."

Suddenly, she appeared to remember herself, looking towards the ground. Nodding to myself, I returned to our course and walked her to her chamber.

"Thank you, my lord," she said with all of her courtesy as I deposited her at her door.

She started to turn away until I added, "You could, you know?"

"I'm sorry?" Her blue eyes raised to mine with curiosity.

"I would love for you to come to Plenair," I added.

Sansa's eyes widened, but rather than wait for some scripted response, I bid her good night, leaving her to mull over what I had said. The next day, I had gone early to train with a bow. My squire and Maester Tamarin were with me. Tamarin insisted it was to see how my shoulder held up and what adjustments we could make. However, I soon realized that was a pretense.

"Robb Stark and your sister are all over their lands and some of yours aiding those affected by the fires."

I had hoped my silence would have suggested I was not interested in this conversation, but apparently not, as Tamarin continued speaking.

"I would not be surprised if they soon turned to him for their troubles, since their errant lord is playing in King's Landing."

"Errant?" I asked. "I came to alleviate concerns about my loyalty. I stayed to try to find out if the Lannisters would make a move."

"You did, but your stay has not produced anything concrete enough, so now you stay for what reason?"

"To heal."

"You've healed enough, Willem. You—"

"No, I will leave when it's time, and now – now is a terrible time." I could hear the petulance in my own voice and hated myself for a moment.

"Because of Lady Sansa?" Tamarin asked.

Sam grinned from his place along the stairs while I became progressively more irritated.

"I think I've trained enough today," I stated and began to turn.

"Willem!"

"Unless this is critically important to my life, I'm not interested," I barked in return.

Even more petulance. I didn't mean to act like this, and I knew it was a luxury I did not have anymore. Still, I couldn't help it when it came to leaving. I had planned to apologize to Maester Tamarin and Sam when next I saw them, but my squire arrived at my chamber not an hour later with his own agenda.

"Come quickly," he said. "It's Lord Stark."

We hurried to his chambers as Sam explained that Jaime Lannister and his men had attacked Lord Stark's, leaving him with a grave injury in the leg. We entered in time to meet his daughters while Maester Pycelle and Tamarin stood over him.

"He needs rest, but there is little hope for him to be as before. He will always need a cane, something to help him," Tamarin explained.

Sansa's tears began anew as she clung onto me. Wrapping my arms around her and stroking her hair, I said as much as I could to encourage her, but inside, I wanted to find the Kingslayer and tear him apart.

Tamarin and Sam watched me knowingly. I could even feel their distant steps as I took Sansa back to her chamber.

"He will be okay," I promised. "Tamarin always gives the most dismal outcome so we can all be impressed when he makes a man completely healthy."

Sansa smiled softly, which I counted as a victory, "I hope so."

"Trust me," I added, kissing her hands. "And rest."

I had barely made it down the hall when they reappeared.

"How am I to expect you two to find me information or keep my secrets when you can barely hide yourselves?" I demanded.

"I'm a maester, not a spy," Tamarin returned.

"Hmmm, something to tell Pycelle."

"We have to leave, Willem. It's getting too dangerous. Jaime Lannister attacked Lord Stark in broad daylight, and he is the Hand."

I sighed, struggling with what I wanted to do and what I knew I needed to do. "The day after Lord Eddard awakes, we ride. Some at sunrise, before the house wakes up. Others as soon after as possible."

It was with a heavy heart that I visited Eddard when he awoke.

"I'll tear Lannister apart. If that coward hadn't run—"

"—Willem, this is not your battle." There was something in Eddard's words that seemed like he was leaving one word unsaid: yet.

He sat up fully and met my eye, "You should have been gone some time ago, but now, you must make your preparations. I want you gone home, away from this place."

I nodded, trying to push away his fatherly tone from my hearing, trying not to feel any emotion. "Yes."

"Will," he added seriously. "I want both of you gone."

The surprise etched onto my wide eyes, open mouth and blank stare, but slowly, inside, I was beginning to get a rush of adrenaline. "Yes, my lord Stark." I was shocked by my own sudden formality.

"Take care of her," he said softly, tears beginning to show in the corners of his eyes.

"Always."

Downstairs at supper, I found Joffrey sitting with Sansa and others. I put myself across the table from them and quickly inserted myself into their conversation.

"Your father seems on the mend," I commented.

Sansa smiled warmly, "Yes, he does. I am very glad. Soon, we shall have him at supper again."

"It's a good thing my uncle Jaime left, or he might not be walking to supper so easily," Joffrey quipped.

I stared a warning at the boy, which made him shift slightly in his chair, "Yes, and thank goodness your uncle ran away lest he might be punished for his actions."

"Punished?" Joffrey exclaimed.

"My lord, I'm sure what he meant-" Sansa attempted to smooth my sentence but the prince had none of it.

"Shut up. I know what he meant. Eddard Stark was a fool for even thinking he and his men could face my uncle."

"You pompous, arrogant bastard," I shot back, standing in anger.

Joffrey's face reddened with rage as he slammed the table, "You would be wise to pay me respect."

"I give my respect when it's earned. You've yelled at a lady, insulted her father, and continue to act as though you deserve our admiration. I have no time for little boys playing games," I returned.

Before Joffrey's brain could formulate words, I turned to Sansa, "Your father sent me to find you, my lady. I know you would not want to displease the prince, but your duty is to your father first. Can I see you to his chambers?"

Sansa nodded, repeating the excuses I fed her, before leaving with me. I had no intention of leading her back to Eddard.

"Where are we going?" she asked as we turned into the garden.

There were people everywhere who could be listening. There was not one place in the city I felt safe having this conversation, but I hoped the fact that this was public would lower suspicions.

"I have to leave tomorrow, Sansa."

Her expression fell, "What? You can't."

I smiled at the reaction. "I have to. I'm needed at home."

"I-It's just so soon," she stuttered, trying to cover her initial outburst as she avoided my gaze, taking a few steps to put distance between us.

"I meant it."

She turned. "What?"

"When I said that I wanted you in Plenair," I said softly.

Her bright blue eyes danced with hope and excitement followed by a harsh dose of nerves.

"I'm betrothed, Willem," Sansa replied softly.

"Yes, to a boy who has no respect for your father, no respect for human life in general, and no kindness towards you unless you and everyone around does exactly what he pleases. Do you want that for the rest of your life?"

Sansa hesitated but was afraid to look into my eyes. I felt if she did I would win this.

"I will take you away from here. I will marry you," I said finally, and now she looked at me, wide-eyed and unable to keep from smiling. Her initial grins, though, dissipated again.

"My lord…I—"

"I want you to do what will make you happy. If that means staying here, then stay, but if you only stay because you feel you must, know this, your father will not fault you and I will protect you from any who would. Tomorrow morning, I will have horses ready before sunrise waiting by the gates. My squire will pretend it is a scouting party to lead our way, but I will wait for you outside my chamber just before dawn, but the moment the hills begin to lighten, I will go."

"I can't—"

"Don't. No decisions now. Think on this tonight. I hope to see you again, Sansa, or…" I kissed her hand softly. "Or, this is goodbye."

With that, I left. I hardly slept that night, wondering if I said enough. I had intended to work in something from one of her favorite stories about knights running away with their ladies, but that sort of thing never came naturally to me. There was a great deal more I could, and truly I should, have said.

That had been apparent as I waited outside my chamber that morning, staring out the window. The hills were lit and now, the sun's rays were beginning to cast onto the city.

Any longer, and I would miss my opportunity to leave without bringing attention.

The disappointment eating at my stomach told me to wait just another minute, but the practical side reminded me that it was long past due.

With a sigh, I walked down the hallway. She wouldn't come. I should have known. She was too bound by her duty, too enamored with the idea of being queen, maybe even too afraid, and for the first time, I realized maybe I wasn't enough to get her to run away. It was a disappointing realization, one that put a lump in my throat and constricted my chest, but it was a lesson I needed to learn.

"Will!"

My heart stopped, hearing her desperate cry. I turned to find Sansa running towards me. She threw herself into a hug, crying, "I thought you might be gone."

"I nearly was," I answered softly.

"This is mad," she added, looking nervous and excited all at the same time.

I pressed my lips against her, and instantly felt myself at ease. And from her expression, I think she did too.

"No, it's as it should be. Come on. We'll need to ride fast," I added and took her hand, hurrying to meet my squire and one of my house guards. I cast one more glance back towards the castle. It was excruciatingly quiet, but I knew someone would have seen something, but not in time. With a kick, we were out the gates, racing towards the road and the secondary paths my men knew so well.