Alysanne II

The last two days had been hard and decisive. Lyara said that they had to watch the girl closely for any signs that things went wrong. They had to take turns watching over the patient, which proved to be a hard work. The girl had to be examined every hour, and milk of the poppy and watered honey had to be given to her frequently. The first night was the hardest: the bleeding started again, and the girl had a high fever. They almost lost her again, and Lyara and Sansa had a sleepless night, watching over the girl and giving her potions to stop the bleeding. By morning the bleeding stopped, and though the girl looked very weak and pale, Lyara took it as a good sign. By noon she was looking better, although still a bit shaky and with a lingering fever. That night Lyara stood watching her while Sansa slept, but before sunrise the young apprentice was up and ready to replace the old healer. When she went to the cabin, Sansa saw the tall brother working in the distance. She was curious about him and a bit nervous as well, but right now wasn't the time to ponder over those feelings. She had a feverish girl to tend to.

The morning went, and not much changed. The girl was still asleep, but Sansa decided to cut off the milk of the poppy. The fever was still lingering, but it wasn't as high as before, which was a good sign. Sometime after noon Lyara was awake and joined Sansa in the cabin.

"How is she?" the healer asked

"She seems to be improving. She still has a fever, but not as high as before. I decided to stop giving her the milk of the poppy. If she shows any sign of pain, we can give her some more, but I think she is ready to wake up at any moment now. Maybe when she wakes, she will be strong enough to eat some broth. That would help her to get back on her feet soon…"

Lyara examined the girl and seemed very pleased. It gave Sansa some pride to see that her mentor was satisfied with her work:

"Good." Lyara said "You learned very quickly, child. I was right about you. You have the Mother's Gift"

"Mother's Gift? What does it mean?"

"It means you are a natural healer. You see, every person in the world is gifted by a different aspect of the Gods. Some of them are gifted by the Warrior, and this gift manifests as greatness in battle. Some people have the gift of the Father: those are the great Kings and Lords…"

Sansa was listening carefully. She never heard about that before, but Lyara was a wise woman. If she said so, then it must be truth. "Could it be that my brother Robb had the Warrior's Gift? Although his life was brief, he was a famous warrior". Every time she thought about her family, she felt a pang of pain. Before she would start crying, she set those thoughts aside, just as Lyara proceeded:

"And some, like you, have the Mother's Gift: the ones who are born with the Mother's Gift have a natural talent to nurture. They find happiness in easing pain and growing things… they are natural born healers, and they can only find fulfillment seeing things whole and thriving."

"And you think I have this gift?" Sansa asked. She never thought about that, but it gave her purpose to know that maybe she was meant to be a healer. All of her life she believed her destiny was to marry a Lord, rule a household, have children and nothing more. "Nothing more than being a pretty bird in a cage" she though. Could it be that she was wrong, all along? Could it be that there was more to her destiny than what she first believed? Lyara nodded and said:

"I know, for sure. This is my own gift: The Gift of the Crone. I can see the paths of the others, even when they cannot see themselves…" Lyara said laughing. Sansa pondered over that for a moment. Lyara was indeed a wise woman, like the Crone. She was teaching her, guiding her, leading her to embrace her own gift. Could it be that it was true and she could really see the fates of the others? If so, could that mean that Sansa was really meant to follow Lyara's footsteps as a healer, living a peaceful life in that little cabin, tending to the ones in need, growing herbs and making potions, apart from the death and destruction that befallen the realm?

"She seems to be awakening" Lyara said and Sansa turned her attention to the girl. Her eyes were slightly open and she seemed to be struggling to speak.

"Hush now, girl" Lyara said "You're still very weak…"

"W…Whe…Where…"

"Where are you? You are at the Quiet Isle, child. You came here almost dying, almost three days ago, and we did our best to save you"

"Is… the…the…" it was clear that speaking was too much of an effort for her now, but she sounded very desperate to utter that one phrase. Lyara figured what the girl meant to say, for she asked:

"You want to know about your child?"

She nodded, looking frightened. Sansa picked up a cloth and started to clean the sweat from the girl's forehead, as Lyara sighed and answered.

"You are not pregnant anymore, child."

The girl left out a relieved sigh. If there was any doubt before now it was clear that she took the moon tea on purpose, to get rid of the child. Sansa wondered why she did such a thing. Surely, she was too young: she was so small and tiny it was hard to say for sure, but she seemed younger than Sansa, who was a sixteen-year-old maiden. Maybe the girl was 13, 14 years old at best. Sansa wondered what happened to her, but made no questions. The poor thing wasn't in shape to speak anyway, and it wasn't Sansa's place to judge. Lyara told her that a good healer must be free from prejudices. It doesn't matter who is the patient, or what is his story. The only thing that matters is the illness, and how to treat it. Lyara brushed a lock of hair out of the girl's forehead and said:

"It's over now, my dear. You don't need to talk about it anymore. Now you should rest. When you wake up again, we will try to feed you."

The girl nodded and slipped back into a deep sleep. She seemed to be faring quite well, and her chances were improving greatly. Lyara was certainly an exceptional healer: anyone would think the girl was a lost case, but Lyara was quick and efficient, and managed to achieve the impossible. Sansa only hoped she would be like her one day.

"She is improving, which is good. Soon she will be able to leave. For the next few days, she will need further care, but there is no need for both of us to stay here. I will stay with the girl until she recovers, but you need to leave tomorrow. The garden and the animals back home need tending…"

"Of course, Lyara"

"You can arrange your departure with the Elder Brother. I am sure one of the brothers can accompany you home."

"Yes, I will do that. Are you sure you will be fine on your own?"

"I will. If I need assistance the Elder Brother will help me. He is a good healer himself. Not as good as me, but he has some merit. After all he managed to save many lives, as far as I know."

"Alright. I will do as you ask, Lyara."

Sansa left the cabin, her feet wandering as much as her thoughts. So much happened to her since she left home: she once thought that her fate was to become Queen of Westeros, but everything that happened ever since left her with a bitter aversion to everything she once craved for: thrones, finery, lords, power. All of those things that once were so important for her now meant nothing. She wanted a simple life: a roof over her head, a good fireplace to ward off the cold, food fresh from the garden, cinnamon tea. Lyara's words gave her a new sense of purpose and perspective: she was determined to be a good healer, the best she could. Part of her still longed for Winterfell, it was true, but only because it was her place, her home. Yet she held no illusions about it. She knew that her home was lost to her. She would never be able to return to Winterfell, but Sansa couldn't help the longing she felt.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize where she was going until she saw the tall and broad form of the brown brother that led her to the Isle, the one who reminded her so much of Sandor Clegane. He had his back to her, and was working, digging a hole in the ground. "A grave", she thought. It was clear she was in a cemetery. It didn't feel right to watch him like that, so she made her presence known:

"Good morning, brother"

He tensed and paused when he heard her voice. Sansa recalled that he always seemed a bit tense in her presence. At first, she thought it was because she represented a temptation of sorts to him and his celibacy vows, but she was less certain of that now. After all, the other brothers she was acquainted with in her short time in the island didn't seemed to feel the same way. They treated her with respect when addressing her, but otherwise seemed to paid her no mind. Only the gravedigger showed such an unusual and strong reaction to her presence. After a few moments in which he seemed to be regaining his composure he turned and nodded in her direction, before continuing his work.

"The girl is faring better now" she said "we arrived just in time. Since you were the one sent to fetch mother and I, I think you can also take some credit for saving her life."

He didn't answer to that. She figured that he must have made a vow of silence. She sighed and sat upon a nearby rock. His figure was imposing, and it was hard not to remember how the Hound always towered over her, even though she has always been quite tall for her age. The brother never stopped working, not even bothering to glance at her. "I must be such a nuisance to him" she though. She didn't know exactly why she felt so drawn to that man. "It must be because he reminds me of Sandor Clegane" she mused. Not wanting to bother him anymore and assaulted by her own memories of Clegane, she bid him farewell, turned and left. She needed to walk in order to quiet down her heart, which was beating madly in her chest, though she didn't know exactly why.

After a few moments of aimless wandering, she found the Elder Brother praying in the Sept. He was so absorbed in his prayers that she didn't dared to move, as to not disturb him. It was a long time since she last stepped inside a Sept. "I think it was that night, the night of the battle" she thought, but then Sansa remembered that she was married in a Sept after that. "Married to the dwarf, no less." She thought. It seemed to be a bad jape: she, who always wanted to marry a charming prince, married to the ugliest man in the Seven Realms. "Maybe even the second ugliest, some would say…" The ugliest would be, of course, the man who put a knife at her throat and demanded a song "And kissed me… If I had left with him, I wouldn't have married the dwarf". But now that all had been said and done, thinking about what if's was useless, so instead she decided to use that time to pray. Her faith in the Gods suffered greatly after the deaths of her father, mother and brothers, but she never stopped believing altogether. She still had some faith in the Gods, both Old and New, and she hoped they would look after her now, even if they didn't before. So, she prayed to the Mother, asking her help to embrace her fate as a healer. She prayed to the Father, the Warrior and the Crone to help her sister, guide her and protect her, in case she was still alive… She even prayed to the Stranger: "Take good care of those you took from me: father, mother, Robb, Bran and Rickon… and Sandor Clegane. He has always been your most devout follower… so I hope you look after him now that he is with you". When she finished her prayers, she found the Elder Brother looking at her:

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Alysanne, Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive, I just finished my prayers now. I was actually looking for you. My mother decided I should return home, since the girl is getting better and there is no need for both of us to stay here."

"Of course. You mean to leave tomorrow?"

"Yes, at first light. Maiden should stay here, for when mother decides to come back. Maybe one of the brothers could accompany me?"

"Yes, of course. I will ask Brother Gravedigger to take you home. He is the one who brought you here, if you recall…"

Yes, she did. It was curious that he would be one to take her back, of all the brown brothers. Probably it was just a coincidence, of course. Maybe he was just the best rider among the brothers, or perhaps it was because he didn't have much work digging graves lately and was the only brother that could be spared… the last seemed to be very unlikely. Between lords at war and bandits, she was sure that a gravedigger couldn't be short of work recently.

"I do, of course." She said nervously. "That would be great, Elder Brother, thank you"

"You are welcome, child" The Elder Brother turned to leave, but Sansa had something in her mind. "It would seem so strange to ask that, but I have to know" she pondered. Maybe the Elder Brother would dismiss her interest as simple curiosity and wouldn't ask questions that she wasn't sure how to answer. Before she could lose her courage, she asked:

"Elder Brother, wait… I have a… question…"

"Yes?" the monk stopped and turned to her, waiting. It took her a minute to get the words out of her mouth, and she avoided his eyes all the while:

"About the Gravedigger… I was just wondering… what is his story?"

The Elder Brother stared at her quizzically for a moment. Certainly, he found her questioning strange, but after a few moments he answered:

"It's not my place to tell his story, child. But I can tell you what I know: before he came to this place, he was a man of violence. When we found him, he was dying and we did our best to save him. Ultimately the Gods decided to spare his life and he has been living here since then, although I cannot say that he is now the same man he once was. I am afraid that man is… gone."

Sansa pondered for a minute, considering his words. So, he was a man of violence before… It would explain his imposing form and stance, and why he reminded her so much of Sandor Clegane, who had been a man of violence himself.

"Oh, I see… And how many years ago was that?" she asked.

"Not years… months. We found him by the river. It was by time of the Raid of the Saltpans, if I recall… sometime after the Red Wedding…"

"Oh…"

"If that would be all, I must go. Goodnight, Alysanne"

By then Sansa was vaguely aware of her surroundings, but upon hearing the last words she answered mechanically:

"Goodnight, Brother…"

A moment later he was gone, and Sansa was left alone to think about what he said. The words were dancing madly in her head: "He was a man of violence…" he said. "…that man is gone" "not years, months" "after the Red Wedding…". When she was living at the Vale, she heard about a man with a dog helmet wreaking havoc in the Saltpans… By then she wasn't sure that man was really Sandor Clegane: although he was a violent man who claimed killing was the sweetest thing, she didn't think it was his style… Some of the news involved villages burned down, and she knew exactly how the Hound felt about fire. That raid happened sometime after the Red Wedding, if she recalled. And a few months later, when she was living with Lyara there was that time she went to the village to shop for supplies and heard that the Hound was… gone. "The monks of the Quiet Isle said so" a man was saying. "There was some ugly wench looking for him, but the brothers told her the man was gone. They found him themselves, or so they say…" Upon hearing that, she was overcame by sadness and regret: The Hound was dead. The only friend she had in King's Landing, the one and only who tried to protect her from the Lannisters was dead. Yes, they said he was gone, but what if gone didn't mean dead? The Elder Brother said the man the Gravedigger used to be was gone… and he was clearly very much alive. "Could it be…?" Sansa thought and suddenly she felt giddy and confused and had to sit down for a minute to calm down her restless heart and her shaking legs. Could it be true, or it was just a fool's hope, born from her own naivety? Could it be that she was just hanging onto that mad idea because she wanted so badly to be true? Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the Gravedigger than she knew, and she was determined to find out the truth, whatever it might be. And whatever it might cost.