Sansa

There was a click followed by a loud whistling then the wet sound of pierced flesh as a tiny cry echoed through the air. Sansa stared at the sight of the rabbit twitching as its chest slowly rose and fell till there was no further movement. Joffrey smiled as a few onlookers applauded and a few of the watching knights congratulated him on his accuracy. She had no idea why Joffrey enjoyed torturing helpless animals released into his archery range so much, but it provided at least a brief reprieve from his attention turning to herself.

"Well shot, your grace," Grand Maester Pycelle said. "Your accuracy grows sharper by the day."

"I grow tired of shooting rabbits," Joffrey said. "They always freeze I will need something better if I'm to prepare myself for battle."

"Very wise, your grace. Perhaps birds?"

"Yes, birds would be perfect," Joffrey said. "Pheasants would make for good sport."

"I will have some prepared for your next venture."

"Good," Joffrey nodded. "Now how is the health of our stranger? Has he recovered yet?"

"He is gradually healing," Pycelle said. "He does not take well to Milk of the Poppy, but his body appears to be healing quite miraculously, and he grows sharper by the day."

"Good," Joffrey said. "He must be questioned as soon as he is ready, I wish to know his intent. If he is a foreign invader I'll put his head in a spike right next to Lord Stark. Wouldn't you like that Sansa?"

Sansa looked down though and kept her face from betraying her thoughts.

"I know you will defend the realm, your grace."

"We shall discover his purpose soon enough your grace," Pycelle said. "Though I do caution you not to pay the stranger much mind. I still believe he may simply be a victim of madness."

"What of the ruin my grandfather is investigating?" Joffrey says. "And my mother says that the Northerners and Dragonstone have also reported encountering strangers."

"Their caution is admirable but unwarranted your grace," Pycelle said. "I have sent word to Oldtown to send for Maesters to investigate. They will find the truth rest assured, there is a natural explanation for all of this. Men come from the world, not the stars."

"That may be so, but I want to know more," Joffrey said. "Stupid as my uncle is mother tells me he put out orders for any other strangers to be brought to the castle. If any should be found I want them brought before me."

"Of course, your grace. Now if you will forgive me I must depart."

The Grand Maester bowed and turned to leave as Joffrey inspected his crossbow. He looked toward Sansa again a wicked grin on his face.

"I have just had a wonderful idea," he said. "Surely any wounded man would enjoy the nursing of a young maiden. Sansa, why don't you go and attend this Larson fellow?"

Sansa looked up at Joffrey, the thought of being in that room with that stranger unnerved her. She could not say why exactly still she thought carefully how to react trying to react how Joffrey might anticipate she would.

"Surely the Queen and the Hand would not want me there, your grace. Please he frightens me I wish to be with you."

"Liar," Joffrey said. "But still, I would be a poor host if I did not provide. Ser Meryn escort Lady Stark and ensure she does not leave."

Ser Meryn stepped forward when the Hound blocked him with his arm.

"I'll take the girl," he said. "I have to piss anyway."

"Fine," Joffrey said. "Just return soon the pheasants will be ready soon."

The Hound simply grunted as he shoved Arya toward the castle, Joffrey returning his attention to his crossbow as they walked inside. Sansa felt some relief being away from him even if it meant being near the stranger.

"Off to sing your songs for our wayward friend eh little bird?"
"It is King Joffrey's command.." Sansa said flatly.

"Try not to sound so excited," The Hound said. "Or Joffrey will pick up that you're not scared of him."

"He does frighten me…" Sansa said. "Though not in the way the King thinks. Do you really think he is a man from the stars?"

"Bah," Hound spat. "Do I believe in falling stars with men riding in them? No. I believe only in what I have seen, Little Bird. I have seen more than you ever have girl, but never men from the sky."

"So, he is a liar then?"

"Who knows? Maybe he's mad or maybe the world is a lot stranger than I've seen," Hound said. "No use questioning it. The truth will come one way or another. Usually at the end of a sword."

He fell silent after that with a distant look in his eyes. Sansa wondered if even the Hound was troubled by the strangers, but she did not dare ask him. The Hound was a crude, loud, and blunt man but when his mood suited him she found him gentler in his own gruff fashion than the others, he did not shove or hit her like Ser Meryn nor ignore her like his fellow false knights. They walked toward a door where a guard was standing.

"This room is not to be entered unless with orders," he said. "By order of the Hand."

"Fuck the Hand," Hound said. "The King wants the girl to nurse our foreigner. You had best let her in."

The guard tightened his grip on his spear but did not seem inclined to debate with the Hound any further he simply quietly nodded and stepped aside. The Hound shoved the door open and motioned for Sansa to enter.

"Into your cage Little Bird," he said. "Sing him a nice song."

"Thank you, Ser Gregor," Sansa said with a bow.

"Save your thanks."

The Hound grunted and stepped off producing a wine flask from his hip taking a long swig as he wandered off. Sansa stepped inside of the room and the guard gave her a long look before shrugging.

"Try not to touch anything," he said. "And knock if he awakes I'm to summon healers to give him milk of the poppy for his pain."

"I will do so, Ser."

The man nodded and closed the door behind Sansa as she turned to face Mehmet Larsson. He was lying on a large bed wrapped in fresh bandages, his strange clothing had been put aside next to the bed, and he was now wearing simple robes that provided him with some modesty while the healers could work as needed. His eyes were closed as his chest slowly rose and the sound of strained yet gentle breathing was a clear sign he was asleep.

Sansa took a seat by the side of the bed and observed the man closely. His skin was slightly tanned, and his dark hair was loose and wild unkempt from neglect. The stranger did not seem intimidating outside of his strange garb laying wounded like this he appeared like any other man tall and fit in body. Yet she noticed he bore no scars beyond the fresh ones he received from his arrival in the God's Eye and his face was rather gentle looking beyond the bandages. Sansa stood and walked over to his garment inspecting the round blue sigil. It reminded her of the night sky with the twinkling stars and admired the impressive detail of the land below, the girl who sewn it must have been quite skilled. The thought made her feel sad for the stranger, perhaps his Lady Wife or Daughter had made this for him wishing him safe travels. Now he was in King's Landing, a vile place where good men die.

She turned to look upon her charge and jumped with fright nearly shouting when she saw two wide eyes staring at her. The man looked at her a long moment seeming surprised until he began breathing again laying back against the bed. Sansa quickly moved toward the door but as she raised her hand to bring attention to the guard.

"Wait…" A weak voice said. "Please…"

Sansa turned and saw that he was gently reaching forward shaking his head with a rather pathetic look. Sansa lowered her hand and approached his side weary but feeling concerned.

"I must summon the guard," she said. "You need the milk of the poppy to heal, Ser."

"Please…no more…" he said. "The healers they don't listen…Makes me dream."

"My father also dreamed but it helped him heal. Please you must not fight just rest."

The man instead grunted as he shifted his weight sitting up ever so slightly and looking around the room till he pointed to a group of boxes in the corner.

"Please bring me that medical kit," he said. "No one would listen. It will…help me."

He coughed straining to talk but there was determination in his voice. Sansa looked over becoming worried if she was caught interfering with his healing she would be punished but she met the man's eyes again seeing the desperation for her help. She walked over to the strange boxes unsure which one was this 'medical kit' She looked back watching his hand and face as she reached toward the boxes. He finally nodded when she reached toward a large white box which was heavy in her hands, but she managed to pull it to the beside within his reach.

"Thank you," he said. "This will help me."

Sansa helped him to open the box pulling up a firm piece that flipped up after she pulled it on. As he opened it she saw a variety of tools, capsules with strange liquids, and transparent cups that looked like glass inside of them were tiny objects that looked like sweets. Sansa eyed them curiously but made no move to touch anything as the stranger quickly pulled out a tool with a needle and stabbed it into himself. Sansa held back a gasp not wanting to alert the guard as the man grunted before quickly putting away the needled tool into a container. He then struggled to open one of the transparent cups, Sansa assisted him holding it for him as he twisted the top off and then quickly poured out a few and then dropped them into his mouth and swallowed.

"Medicine…" he said. "From my ship. Will help me heal. Careful not to touch or take any it would be dangerous."

Sansa found herself surprised by the gentle tone of voice. It was different from how most treated her in the castle there was no caution, anger, or subtle pity in his voice, Just the gentle tone of a man talking to a child as her father once did. It caused Sansa to feel more emotional than she expected a sudden feeling of sadness rushing through her.

"What is your name?"

Sansa looked up. "Forgive me, ser. What did you say?"
"Your name." The man said. "I'm…Mehmet Larsson."

"I am…Sansa," she said. "Sansa Stark."

"Sansa, that is a very lovely name," Mehmet said. "Thank you for helping me, Sansa."

Sansa was surprised by his sudden talkativeness. After taking his medicines Captain Larsson already seemed to be a bit healthier. He still grunted and shifted but his energy suddenly returned he closed the 'medical kit' and handed it back to Sansa to carry back to the corner. He relaxed back into the bed as she returned to her seat.

"How old are you Sansa?"

"Ten and one, Ser," Sansa said. "What should I call you?"

"You can call me, Larsson," he said. "I do not remember you among the nurses."

"I am not a nurse," Sansa said. "I am a highborn lady living in the Red Keep."

She hesitated to use the word, prisoner, though it would be the truth. If someone overheard her slandering the King in this place she would no doubt be punished. She tried to put on a brave face.

"King Joffrey said it might be good for you to be looked after by a lady."

"I suppose that is…kind of the king," Mehmet said. "But I would not want to keep you here. I am a stranger and surely your parents might want you."

Sansa whimpered slightly. "My…. My lord father is…dead. And my lady mother is far away. Please, Ser Larsson I know you do not have need of me but please permit me to stay a while. I would…be punished?"

"Punished?" Mehmet said raising his head. "I…I see. I'm sorry, stay as long as you like."

He muttered something under his breath between pained grunts as he shifted slightly. Mehmet seemed to be thinking hard about something to the point Sansa wondered if he had forgotten her until she realized she made a sound, and he looked toward her.

"Ser Larsson?"

"Yes?"

"Are you really…truly from the stars?"

"I am," he said. "I am the captain of a ship that flies in the sky. That might sound impossible to you but in my land such things are possible."

"I believe you," Sansa said. "They found pieces of your ship."

"It was destroyed," Mehmet said. "Something attacked us. I don't suppose you would know anything about that?"

"No ser," Sansa said. "I do not know anything like that…"

"Sansa," Mehmet said. "I was joking, I'm sorry."

He smiled weakly as he let out a quiet laugh that turned into a cough.

"I think there are more of us…what was the word you used? Strangers. On your world than just my crew."

The thought of that made Sansa feel unsettled. What would strangers who could wander the sky want with the realm? Such events were beyond what she had any familiarity with, and she looked down feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Mehmet said. "I've scared you."

"You are…very gentle, Ser Larsson." Sansa said, "I am not scared I just do not know how to feel."

"You're just a kid leave the worrying for the adults."

Sansa wished that his words were true. She had stopped being a child when she saw her father's head leave his body. Now she was unsure what she was beyond the truth she realized some time. She was far from home and very scared.

"Ser Larsson? If your home far away?"

"Very," Mehmet said. "Across the sky."

"Why did you come here?"

"We were…explorers," he said. "We take our ship to faraway worlds to find new places and people. Our mission is a peaceful one."

"But you were still attacked?"

He nodded quietly. Sansa felt sadness for Captain Larsson in that moment far from home attacked by an enemy and now he was trapped in the Red Keep much like she was. She found herself reaching toward his hand the captain looked surprised but said nothing.

"Sansa," he said. "Are you safe here?"

Sansa looked at him for a long time. In a place full of strangers who constantly threatened her, berated her, and whispered frightening things in her presence. This man from the sky looked upon her with a kindness she had not felt in a long time. But there was fear in her heart the words were just beneath her tongue, but she could not bring herself to say it.

"I am the King's guest." She spoke. "Of course I am safe."

Mehmet eyes met her own and they shared a long look. He seemed unsatisfied with her answer but before he could speak more there were voices. Sansa jumped realizing she had forgotten to tell the guard but as she stood to open it the door suddenly swung open as the Grand Maester and Queen Cersei entered the room.

"Sansa?" Cersei said. "What are you doing in here girl?"

Sansa winced the Queen sounded more confused than angry.

"I'm sorry your grace," Sansa said. "King Joffrey commanded me to attend Ser Larsson."

"Did you know of this?" Cersei said turning toward the Grand Maester with a demanding look.

"I did not your grace," Pycelle said. "Though I last saw her in the King's company."

"Please your grace, I was only obeying the King."

"Enough, Sansa," Cersei said. "I will speak with the King regarding your duties later, be silent for now."

"Sansa was assisting me. Please do not be angry with her."

Mehmet's voice entering the conversation caught the attention of Cersei and Pycelle who both looked shocked to see Captain Larsson sitting upright on the bed. He was still breathing weakly, but the color was returning to his face as his eyes were alert and focused.

"Grand Maester, you said he was receiving milk of the poppy?"

"He was your grace…perhaps the conversation has stimulated him, I should have more prepared."

"Please," Mehmet said. "No more of your medicine…I have my own treatments I would simply request you let me use my supplies."

Queen Cersei looked toward the Grand Maester silently for a moment before nodding. She turned to Sansa her expression unclear.

"Sansa, dear? Please take your leave for now. I must speak with the Captain alone."

Sansa bowed. "At once, your grace."

She quickly stepped out of the room she could hear Ser Larsson reintroducing himself mentioning his nation the Interstellar Union before the guard roughly shut the door.

"Off with you girl," he said. "You heard the queen."

Sansa bowed politely and began walking away from the bedchamber hoping she would have another chance to speak with the gentle captain from the sky.