Chapter 41
Brienne shouldn’t be alive. She took stock of her injuries as she warily looked at the man… the thing that had saved her. The air was still cold, yet no vapors came from him. Why a wight would drive back other wights and save her made her muddled thoughts congeal. It was too much for the moment, so she focused on what she could.
Her hand had been partially burned. It hurt terribly, which she counted as, mayhaps, a good sign. It could still grip things properly. Her shoulder was deeply bruised and her neck was quite stiff. She had taken a blow to the head at some point and one of her knees hurt every time she took a step. The small cave with its small fire allowed for warmth to gather, but the memory of the bitterest cold of her life still seemed to crowd upon her.
“Who are you?” Brienne eventually asked.
“A brother of the Night’s Watch,” replied the creature. His voice was like leaves scraping across stones, almost too thin to sound like a man’s.
Once… perhaps.
“Your name?”
The thing did not answer. Brienne waited for an answer before asking again. Still no answer.
“I must thank you for saving me. You and your steed, both. I am Brienne of Tarth. I would have answers for what happened.”
The heavily cowled man looked at her.
“I can lead you back to the Wall. But if you want answers, then you must do a boon in return.”
Brienne’s heart clenched. Her duty had been to serve her Lord Renly and learn what was transpiring north of the Wall. It was not the most important task of her life. But she could not blindly accept such an agreement.
“What is the boon? My house is sworn to Lord Renly Baratheon. I can accept a reasonable request, but nothing that would violate my oaths or my honor.”
The silence deepened.
“I can lead you to where you find answers. It won’t be me that gives them, but another.”
Brienne was frustrated. Yes, this… man or thing had rescued her. Astride a giant elk, he had smashed away the grasping claws of the dead. She shuddered at the memory. Near the end she had seen that the recently slain Erryk was one of them. But at the same time, he was not trustworthy at all. Where did her duty lay? Possible further answers, or should she take what she had already learned and make it back to the Manderly ships?
“Did… did any of the others make it? I know Ser Guyard was trying to get to the horses to retreat.”
The figure shrugged.
Brienne suppressed a groan. Making it back to the ships would take more than a day, and if the wights were still out there, there was little hope of doing so alone. Somehow she doubted the great elk would consent to being ridden by her.
Slim chance, but a choice. He wants me for something, but I can think of little that would be worse than being torn apart by wights.
“I can make no guarantees, but I will go to this other who has answers about what is taking place here.”
“Rest, it will not be a swift journey. I will see that you come to no harm while you sleep.”
Strangely enough, Brienne believed him.
***
Robert rolled over, satisfied and deliciously weary. Raya murmured her own delight. A whore she might be, but knowing how young ladies thought was something that just seemed natural for women. Both Myrcella and Sansa had enjoyed their gifts.
With Sansa, he hadn’t been sure at first. She seemed almost wary of it. The way she had hesitated after putting it on had crushed him. Sansa had opened her mouth and it was like a crushing weight had descended on Robert’s chest. The gift that he had been so proud of was not something she liked?
I shouldn’t have worried. It was just Sansa being Sansa.
He recalled how she closed her mouth and her eyes welled with unshed tears as she looked away from him.
“’Tis… ‘tis more than I imagined. I feel unworthy of it, but thank you, Your Grace. It is beyond a wonder.”
The weight had lifted and Robert had known profound joy as Ned’s daughter had embraced him. Both of the girls oohed over how it looked on each other. The girl’s wolf seemed very confused by her master’s outpouring of emotion, for Sansa was always tightly wound within herself.
Just like Ned. Even in victory he kept that long face. Gods, he really needed to learn to live. Not every waking moment must be dedicated to solemn duty!
Since then, the affairs of state had wearied him considerably. It was no wonder a man might grow sick having to tolerate the heat and ponderous nothings from his council. The new Grand Maester, Gormon Tyrell, was proving less ponderous than Pycelle had been, but it was still a wretched experience hearing his small council talk of counting coppers endlessly.
Kevan was proving less adept at finding coin than Littlefinger had been. He was raising the cost of doing things, such as even having people pay coin to cross the gates. Robert knew that would put a damper on his planned tourney. The smallfolk of the city were also restless as the new master of coin tried to extract more for the treasury.
When he complained to Sansa she had talked about how there were always trade-offs. It seemed Littlefinger had borrowed so heavily to pay for excess that Robert had demanded. Something that was never truly sustainable and now measures had to be put in place that were unpopular. It was greatly aggrieving to him. No wonder his constitution had plagued him of late.
“You normally wish to partake more than once, my king.”
Robert ran his hands down her pale skin. She ran hot, but even so he found himself adoring the sensation.
“Not tonight. I require my strength for the morrow.”
“What is tomorrow?”
“Court. A number of decisions must be made. My brother tires me, but Sansa pointed out something to me that has made me reconsider.”
“Mmm, the wolf girl, I’ve seen her beast. It frightens people at times; I wonder if it might be happier in a place less crowded. Maybe a section of the godswood.”
“No, she’s right where she should be,” Robert said firmly. “In any event, Sansa has spoken well of Stannis, to my surprise. Even compares his sense of honor to that of her father’s.”
“I thought you said they were at odds?” Raya questioned.
“Oh, they are, but she says that his refusal to give in to what my brother views as a lie makes him consistent. And consistency in a ruler is much better than someone who is more… ah, the word, mercurial I think she used. With Renly clamoring to make it clear who the Lord Regent would be if I were to fall… well perhaps Stannis would be ideal if we could come to terms regarding my children. She thinks he would make a fine Lord Regent in such an event.”
The whore hesitated for a moment, the movement of her hand down toward the lower half of his body halted.
Robert wasn't sure whether he should command her to continue or tell her to leave off. Before he could truly decide, he drifted into sleep.
***
Margaery looked at Sansa and was surprised by her state. Her dress was fine, her hair well brushed, but she looked overly weary and distracted. Her normally-well composed face, showing naught but smiles or neutrality, was oddly twitchy.
“Is aught amiss, Sansa? You seem distracted.”
Sansa’s blue eyes met Margaery’s gaze.
“I have been working with Lord Tyrion on using Myrish lenses to allow those with poor eyesight to still be able to see effectively. I admit, when I launched this endeavor I did not expect it to take up so much time.”
Margaery looked intrigued. “Truly? I have an uncle who complains bitterly that books are writ too small. Could that help him?”
Sansa nodded with a bright smile on her face. “Absolutely, that is their purpose. It is worthy work; it is just time consuming. Within less than a year we will have multiple different versions of varying strength that will allow all but those with the worst eyesight to read anything they wished.”
Margaery took her hands in hers. “That is incredible! Your wits are always a marvel.”
The younger girl’s smile faded. “Would that were true,” she said with bitterness.
“What’s that?”
Sansa shook her head. “Nothing I wish to speak of, just that no one is above making errors of judgement.”
I’ve learned that Sansa often hints at things. What is she trying to tell me?
Her grandmother was beginning to respect Sansa, but still felt that the Starks had ruined her with her bluntness. Margaery disagreed, but she was done arguing with her sharp-tongued grandmother. It was a different time. Robert a different king. The man was direct; no wonder he would listen to others who matched that candor.
Changing the subject, Margaery asked Sansa what she thought of the potential match of Lord Renly and Lady Arianne. Sansa hesitated for a long moment before answering. That too was odd, normally her responses never held such a pause.
“It is an odd match given Dorne’s previous royal marriage. Bringing the Martells back into the fold is wise, but the timing is interesting. Yes, Lord Renly has only recently begun seeking a wife in earnest, but still might cause the king to be wary.”
Margery understood well what Sansa was suggesting. Robert was not yet forty, but he was not healthy. Excess drink could age a man beyond the years he’d lived and once Robert was gone, Renly could easily bring up the issue of Tommen and Myrcella’s heritage. With Stannis still removed from the line of succession that would mean Lord Renly could become King Renly.
Renly wouldn’t harm Robert, but when the day dawned where Robert was no more, he could easily make a bid for the crown. He assumes my family would support him. Combine that with Dorne…
“He can hardly blame his brother for following his commands. His Grace said that Renly must wed. Now he seems to be serious. But still, ‘tis quite early. Perhaps they will mislike each other.”
Sansa’s face twisted. “I doubt she’s come all this way for nothing. I am curious, Margaery, why hasn’t your eldest brother wed?”
“You’ll have to ask my father. In truth… Willas would be a fine match for any lady, but his injury has some lords look at him as a lesser. My father will not deign to have him wed beneath his station, which gives few options. With Garlan already wed, it is not as urgent. Though I do worry about Leonette. She has yet to quicken with child.”
Sansa pursed her lips. “Sometimes that is the way of things, sometimes it isn’t even the woman’s fault either.”
Margaery laughed. Sansa had such unusual thoughts sometimes.
“Returning to Arianne, I wonder how she will like the court.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve heard a story or two about her.”
Sansa shrugged. “There was a story or two about you and others about me here in court. Stories could be true, or they could be not. I’d not hold them against her, regardless. Though I must wonder if she is of the same opinion of her father about His Grace.”
Margaery tilted her head a bit, signaling her curiosity.
“Doran Martell no doubt despises His Grace for calling his dead kin ‘dragonspawn’ and refusing for justice to be done. If Arianne does not hold that same grudge, given she was younger than ten when it all came to pass, why wait to become the queen when Robert passes?”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t mean… you think she might mean to seduce Robert?”
Sansa took a sip from her cup. “I don’t mean anything, other than that the possibility may exist. I don’t know her at all. It is just something I wonder from time to time as to what will occur. What happens to the claim I had early assumed Arianne may want to press as Renly’s wife, if His Grace were to remarry and have more children?”
“Does he wish to remarry?”
“Not at the moment, no. But he is young yet, but it also creates another situation where Tommen’s ascension could be cut short if he has a half-brother. The situation is still worryingly unresolved and can turn in many different directions. I’d prefer to live in less interesting times, myself.”
Margaery laughed. “Oh, but that would be no fun!”
Sansa gave her a momentary look of disgust before smoothing her face and apologizing.
“I’m sorry, I’m poor company. I should go, but we should invite Arianne to join us for one of these gatherings when she arrives.”
Oh I intend to!
***
Something was wrong. But whenever Arya tried to ask about why they weren’t doing any of their normal warg activities, Sansa cut her off before she could even finish her thought. A sharp shake of her head and a direct glance before brushing it off. It didn’t make sense.
Does she think we are being watched?
Arya considered that, but she had mastered partial slipping and had borrowed Nymeria’s senses and couldn’t detect anyone, by smell or hearing. She couldn’t understand why Sansa wouldn't even talk about it. There were so many important things to do! The passageways around the Red Keep were exciting to explore as Ser Pounce. Now it seemed like it had just been pushed to the side. The only other thing she got out of Sansa was a whispered request to ‘be good.’ Whenever she tried to ask any additional questions the sharp look returned.
Deciding that something had to be done, she talked to Jory.
“Jory, Sansa is acting strange. Has she been bothered by something?”
“She seems wearier than usual. But, my lady, have you tried just asking her?”
Arya gave him a look. “Of course I’ve tried. She just shushes me! But you are the captain of her guard.”
Jory gave a brief laugh. “Your father’s guard, just temporarily assigned to keep her safe.”
This isn’t helping.
Arya sighed. “I’m going to go visit the prince and princess.”
Jory bowed his head slightly and followed her along with Harwin. It was always two guards at a minimum these days. Myrcella was finishing some needlework and was happy to see her. Arya narrowed her eyes at the flash of gold and red at her wrist. That was just like the one Sansa wore and ever since she had started wearing it she had not wanted to warg.
“Princess Myrcella, can I see your bracelet?”
The princess nodded. “It’s very pretty. Sansa has one just like it. Oh, I’m sorry, did you want one too? Father got it for her since she’s supposed to marry into our family if your father agrees. But I’m sure if you ask you can get one too!”
Arya calmed the princess down. She didn’t want something like that. But she did want to examine it.
Nothing out of the ordinary, but she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She didn’t dare put it on, though, because she liked slipping her skin into Nymeria at times. After pretending to love it, she handed it back.
“My sister seems not herself recently. Did something happen when I wasn’t around?”
Myrcella shook her head. “No, not that I can think of.”
Arya left her and then questioned Tommen, but he was even less helpful. She returned to her room with Nymeria and wondered what she should do. She felt that it had to be something about the bracelet her sister had received. Sansa didn’t wear much jewelry, she had started wearing some silver pieces, but nothing so fancy as with a gemstone. Now she was wearing it and suddenly didn’t want to talk or skinchange?
It has to be it, and if it’s not… Well, I’ll think of something else.
As night fell and Sansa went to bed, Arya forced herself to stay awake. When Sansa’s breathing eased, Arya slowly and carefully sat up.
Swift as a deer. Quiet as a shadow.
The bed did not so much as creak. She looked at Visha, who had even more sensitive ears than Sansa. With a small smile she eased toward the dire wolf and gently woke the beast. Arya whispered softly to it.
“Be very quiet. I don’t mean Sansa any harm.”
Visha looked at her for several long seconds and then closed her eyes. Arya took that as permission and slowly, carefully crept next to the second bed in the room.
Calm as still water.
Arya wasn’t sure why she had to slow her racing heart. All she was going to do was remove the bracelet. It was trivial. The memory of when Sansa had drawn her blade when Arya had leaped at her from hiding made her pause. If her sister awoke to someone trying to take something off her wrist would she react and stab before seeing who it was?
Fear cuts deeper than swords.
If she did, Arya would be ready to dart away. But for now, she wasn’t going to let worry stay her hand. Sansa’s breathing stayed even as Arya slowly positioned herself to undo the clasp in one smooth motion. Arya took a breath, held it, and then moved with all the grace she had learned from Syrio.
The bracelet opened and Sansa awoke.
***
I must admit that it had been quite the nasty trick. When the king’s bracelet was fastened around my wrist I instantly knew some other will was attempting to worm its way through mine. That was infuriating, of course, but easily dealt with. Or so I thought.
Breaking out of whatever sort of geas was child’s play. I didn’t even think it would do more than subconsciously influence someone, but like with my contest with the other skinchanger, how does one measure willpower? Maybe regular people would be subsumed by what I felt was just a nagging feeling that I should be kinder toward Stannis, be disgusted by Tommen, and never remove this piece of jewelry.
But as I thought to remove it, I felt it. Some sort of unseen connection between that action and Robert’s vitality. Even thinking about it caused him to turn pale. His eyes lost focus and a tremor appeared. I decided not to take it off and he instantly looked better.
What is this?
I tested it again. Merely intending to take it off caused the instantaneous worsening of Robert's health. Somehow the bracelet, likely the blood under the gemstone, had created some sort of magical link between the influence of it and the king’s health. If I were to snap the spell, I feared it might kill the king, and then who knows what would happen.
Instead, I had gushed about how wonderful it was and hid my earlier expression behind the idea that I wasn’t worthy of the bauble. From there I grew very, very paranoid and wondered how I could fix the issue. What was infuriating was that I suspected I was also being watched. I had no way of knowing if that was true or not, and the golden piece seemed to act on intention rather than someone observing and fiddling with a ‘Robert health knob’ but still.
After that day I resolved not to give away any more of my secrets in case that truly was what was happening. I could still warg, but a full-blown warg required me to be in a safe place since I was dead to the world while fully skin slipping. I still did so from the confines of a privy. It worked just fine, hopefully the momentary lapse of consciousness, if I was being watched, would be thought of some sort of fainting spell or just a really bad number two moment.
I kept my mind as blank as I could around those trigger thoughts, except when around the king. There, whenever I attempted to think of ways to get out of this predicament, I would notice his vitality was being leeched. If even planning would trigger Robert’s decline in health, then I was probably screwed. At some point I would just have to bite the bullet and snap the spell and then murder the most likely culprit.
Melisandre. So those old tales and fables of blood magic and foul sorcery from Asshai weren’t just sailors’ tales and xenophobic views of the far east of Essos. It does make me wonder if there are other avenues toward recreating my second life’s magic.
So far, the compulsion itself wasn’t dire outside of the maddening inability to make plans. Being nicer to Stannis had just taken on the form of letting him be the heir again. While his trust in the evil witch was bad, he at least seemed to take seriously the threat facing my father in the north, which meant he probably would be a better king than Renly would for the purposes of gathering aid. Being disgusted by Tommen didn’t change any of my plans, because why would distaste matter? It wasn’t as if I was championing him as the heir because I liked him. It was just business.
Maybe I’d make an exception for my family, but I don’t allow fondness and personal feelings to make me do foolish things.
The rub was what else would take place and if other demands could be stacked on the existing ones. Fortunately, it seemed I wouldn’t have to worry about that.
When I woke to see Arya hovering over me, bracelet it in hand my first instinct was concern. Would someone else removing the cursed jewelry trigger a catastrophic medical event for Robert? I had no way of knowing, and no time to spare.
“GUARDS! The king is in danger!”
Arya scrambled back, surprised.
“Don’t touch that! Put it under the pillow and don’t let anyone come in and take it. There’s some spell upon it. We might also be under magical surveillance, but right now my concern is the king.”
Arya just gaped at me while my guards asked what was wrong.
“No time! To the king, now!” I commanded and they fell in line.
Since we were ensconced within the Royal Apartments, it wasn’t as if the king was far from us. A bell began to ring and more shouts went up. Ser Loras was in front of the king’s bedroom with a quartet of Baratheon guards.
“Check on the king, now.” I snapped and Loras looked at me with a furrowed brow while the guards opened the door.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Robert asked as he stumbled to his feet. A dark-haired whore stirred sleepily beside him.
“A maester needs to check on you, but this may have been a false alarm.”
Ser Loras gathered his wits. “Do you think he was poisoned? Away from him,” he commanded the whore.
“Mind your tongue,” the king snapped in defense of his bed partner. “Seven hells!” Robert cried as he realized he was naked and I was now in the room with him. He grabbed a blanket and covered himself. “What is going on, Sansa? What’s this talk of poison?”
I shook my head. “Not poison, but something potentially worse.”
The whore was gathering her belongings. I couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was. It seemed that Robert still longed for my dead Aunt Lyanna, since she looked quite similar to the statue of Lyanna in the crypts of Winterfell.
“Speak!” Loras demanded and Robert snapped at him again. Poor guy.
“It was sorcery. Your brother’s witch from Essos.”
“I thought you said she was a charlatan?”
“So I thought, but I can think of no other culprit for this. Please order the arrest of your brother and Lady Melisandre.”
Robert nodded. “Go, see to it,” he commanded as more guards arrived. He then asked me to explain what was going on.
I eyed the other guards, the whore, Ser Loras.
“Perhaps it would be best if we wait for the maester and with fewer ears about. I come with speculation, not with certainty.”
“Too much of that these days,” Robert muttered.
Loras opened his mouth again. “Your Grace, you are ordering the arrest of your brother on the say so of a girl not yet ten-and-three. She’s roused the whole holdfast by this point. And it seems that you are quite well.”
Robert again defended me and said that he wished to hear what I had to say. As some of the guards exited the chamber, Visha growled and I was on guard immediately.
Why had she growled?
I borrowed her sense of smell and realized the whore had left with the guards and my eyes had glossed over her. She wasn’t invisible per se, but for some strange reason I must not have focused.
“What was the lady’s name who was here?” I asked.
Robert looked confused for a moment. “Oh, uh,” he scratched at the back of his neck. “She’s kept me company as of late.”
“After Lady Melisandre arrived?”
The king furrowed his brow. “Yes, now that you mention it.”
“Please order her arrest as well, go Ser Loras, find her quickly.”
Robert nodded, but for the fourth time Loras put his foot in his mouth, again. “My place is here by your side, Your Grace.”
“GO DAMN YOU,” Robert roared. “But see that she comes to no harm or I’ll give it to you tenfold.”
Robert turned to me. “Sansa, I trust you, but I will need to hear what your reasoning for all this is.”
I marshaled my thoughts, fully able to consider things without worrying about the impact of them and explained to him what had occurred. It was a shortened version of my thoughts, but essentially anytime I would even consider trying to remove his gift, give counsel that supported Tommen or harmed Stannis, it would cause him to have a physical reaction. Somehow my obedience to the inbuilt commands that came with the jewelry was linked to his health. I then explained how Arya removed it while I slept because she thought I had been acting off since wearing it.
Robert was skeptical, but as the hours and the night progressed, things began to be clear. Especially since there was no sign of Melisandre or Raya even as the Red Keep was sealed. Never one to miss a chance to kill two birds with one stone, I suggested that there must be some sort of hidden exit from the Red Keep. This would allow my ‘discovery’ of the tunnels and the creepy tongueless children to be explained.
More clarity occurred when Robert confessed to his memories being a bit fuzzy as well, but he was sure that it had been Raya who had suggested the matching bracelets for Myrcella and myself. He recalled speaking some words and taking part in a smallfolk tradition of pouring a bit of his blood in the recess of the gem.
“I remember a fire… and… words, a sense of rightness. I just wanted to make you and Myrcella happy. Ladies like jewels and belonging and Raya made it sound like it was a regular thing…” he trailed off sheepishly.
Ser Barristan, who had now arrived and heard my explanation, looked at the king with raised eyebrows. “How could it be a smallfolk tradition if most smallfolk could not afford to waste coin on jewels?”
Robert growled at him, more embarrassed than angry.
I need more information on how all this magic works. I hate fumbling around in the dark. What puzzles me is if someone had the power to link someone’s vitality, their very physical health, why do it in this way? The king already seemed to be willing to let himself take part in some bizarre blood ritual, why include me at all?
With no sign of Melisandre or her accomplice, I doubted I would be getting many answers soon on that end. I was going to be very curious as to what Stannis would say and in the meantime, it was time to expand my knowledge. I was going to cast a very wide net. The Citadel needed to cough up everything they knew about the ‘higher mysteries’ that they claimed was all chicanery. I would also send word to Qarth and see if one of their ‘warlocks’ had information or could even come in person. I had also thought the alchemists of Lys were just doing poison and chemistry work, not actual magic as the rumors claimed, but they too would be another path to potentially figuring out what the hell was going on.
Fuck it, I’ll even ask the Royces about their runed armor, though I’m pretty positive that, at least, was bullshit. Not every story of magic could be true.
Author's Note: Originally the reveal was going to be the next chapter and there was going to be more 'what exactly is going on with Sansa' without her POV but it seemed a bit mean with the weekend here to keep people frustrated with a plotline that didn't get that well received. Also, just as a quick reminder, just because Sansa thinks something is true, doesn't make it true.