Sansa Stark awoke alone to thick blankets and fluffed pillows. She heard winds howl inside her chambers, but coverlets protected her from cold. She wanted to rest, to melt and die happy inside her sheets, safe from winter and war. Then she remembered.
Podrick.
Within the minute, Sansa had changed and was out of her chambers. She passed handmaids and attendants in corridors and colonnades, some of whom she recognized from her previous visit to the Vale but could not find Baelish.
Then, in the distance, Sansa saw her. Huge and slightly lumbering, with gleaming blue eyes, she was near the snowy courtyard where Robin Arryn had once kicked at Sansa’s castle. Brienne of Tarth noticed her the same time she did. The area over her left ear was heavily bandaged. “Are you all right, Lady Sansa?” she asked, when they came closer.
“Forget about me, I feel perfectly fine,” she said hastily. “How is Podrick? Is he still alive? Where is he now?” Brienne, in response, mutely pointed to a corner of the snowy courtyard. Sansa could see nothing there save a half-buried rock covered in white. She immediately understood.
“I told him I did not need someone to squire for me…” Brienne was saying. “He could have simply stayed at Winterfell like I told him to. Meaningless… absolutely meaningless…” Her sigh was full of sorrow. She composed herself. “There has never lived a more loyal squire.”
“Indeed.” Sansa could not see it fit to sing songs on Podrick’s death, seeing she knew him so little. Instead, she played the part of the lady. “Brienne,” she said, “I want you to send a raven to Jon and Lyanna. Tell them Alayne Stone has reached the Eyrie. Inform them of the death of Podrick. I must insist you alone do this: I cannot trust anyone greater. I know Littlefinger saved my life, but…”
Brienne interrupted her. “Have you not seen him yet?”
The sense of mild incredulousness puzzled Sansa. “Not yet. Why do you ask?”
“I suggest you do,” she said shortly, face revealing little. When Sansa left her to find Baelish, she heard Brienne following her. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Are you on your way to the rookeries?”
“Not yet, Lady Sansa. I must take responsibility for the death of Podrick, and taking responsibility includes proper steps to prevent reoccurrences. Be it during battles or clipping nails, I shall not leave your side. Permit me to be the shield between you and death.”
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