A Holiday by Decree
~~ Day 9 ~~
Tyrion forced a worried smile and told himself to breathe before the massive double doors in front of him.
Unfortunately, Jesa had already been called away to her family's home inland until the morning. As thunder had begun threatening in the distance, no one seemed sure about whether to fetch her, and Tyrion quickly made the servants promise not to. Hirat, however, had been brought to answer to their royal guest and so now stood with him in the hall outside of the royal chambers, where currently Sansa stayed.
Beside him, where she held a lantern that matched the one she had given him, Hirat returned a small, nervous smile.
Tyrion knew that this had the potential to turn out very badly for them both. Hirat was surely taking a major risk in bringing him to Sansa's chambers, particularly given the late hour. Yet, the fact she was willing to take such a risk, still told Tyrion perhaps he had the right gamble. He thought back to his conversation with Hirat after the other servants had left them.
"And you are sure that she did not say that she wished to never see me again or forbade me from being in the same room with her?" Tyrion asked nervously, as Hirat led him to a small store room by the kitchen. She looked around quickly before waving him into the small space behind her.
Where they stood close together, Hirat put down the lamp she carried on the high workbench. From a shelf, she took down another unlit lantern and began to work with the wick. Until then, she had not really said much to him other than to agree to help him to see Sansa again.
"No, my Lord, quite the opposite. I'm sure of it. She needs you," she answered matter of factly. "I will take you to her."
Tyrion's heart flew into his throat at Hirat's directness. "I– Well - Perhaps, I can wait until morning," he stammered. "Going at this hour, well it could –" He pictured raising Sansa's ire and had no desire to find out what that would be like.
"She is haunted by ghosts of the past, my Lord. I have known Lady Sansa only a short time, but I already care for her. She should not be alone at this time. Please, I pray for you to go to her," Hirat replied and pushed the handle of the newly lit lamp into his hands.
Tyrion tightened his grip again on the lantern. With its long handle, it was not designed for his stature. Stepping forward, he tried to keep its hot surface away from his shirt and jerkin; a comfortable favorite in a blend of mint-green silk layered with beige and gold yarn, his outfit could be the only thing he got right that night.
Along the hall, the whispered rise and fall of the waves outside marked the moments. Now or never, Tyrion steeled himself and knocked his ringed hand against Sansa's door.