ZIRTYS PERZYS → podrick payne

CHAPTER TWO | iron

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ZIRTYS PERZYS
CHAPTER TWO
iron

ʺ❝DO NOT WAIT TO STRIKE UNTIL
THE IRON IS HOT BUT MAKE
IT HOT BY STRIKING.❞

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ELIA'S HUNCH WAS PROVEN to be true late that night, the Inn was closed but still, she could hear heavy footfalls on the wood overhead. Elia had her coat pulled around her as she was slumped in a chair in front of a roaring fire.

She'd heard Brienne and her squire enter after Tyra earlier but Elia hadn't moved from her spot, she didn't know what to think of the two. For so long all Elia wanted was to go home, watch the boys spar with Arya, chase Rickon around the godswoods and even sit though lessons with Sansa, now she had it handed to her on a silver platter and she wouldn't take it.

Winterfell would never be the same, there'd be no Robb and Jon, no Rickon and Bran, no Arya, no Sansa and no Eddard and Catelyn watching over them. Winterfell would only be filled with iron ghosts, tainted by turncloaks and oathbreakers.

Could she really leave Sansa in the hands of Ramsay Snow? The bastard of the Dreadfort had a reputation, even here in the middle of nowhere. Elia already had the answer to her question, she'd already left Sansa in the hands of monsters once before. She wouldn't do it again, Brienne would help her, Elia knew she would.

"Do you mind, m'lady?" A rough hand gestured at the chair to her right and after a short nod, Brienne's squire sat in front of the fire holding his hands in front of him for warmth.

"It's Podrick, isn't it?" He nodde shortly, he kept his eyes on the glow of the fire and Elia kept hers on him. "Please don't try to change my mind, I'm safer a Stone than I am a Stark."

"I wouldnt, m'lady." He was taller than she'd thought, taller than Elia by a head, he looked the size of a dwarf next to Lady Brienne but Elia suspected everyone did. His cheeks were more rounded than anyone else she'd seen since leaving kings landing, she guessed he used to squire from a rich lord before Brienne.

"You're not?" He shook his head shyly and shifted closer to the fire. He toyed with something in his hands as he stared into the fire, his teeth worried over his lips and Elia wanted to flick him on the temple, WAS IT REALLY THAT HARD TO TALK TO ME?

"No, m'lady. I - I have something for you," He stuttered his answer and slowly held his hand out to her, his finger were still curved over the edges of the wooden direwolf as Elia took it. Their hands brushed softly but Elia was too focused on studying the harsh curves to notice Podrick startled expression and red cheeks.

"This was," She blinked at the emotion in her voice and coughed lightly, "This was my mothers, I made it for her."

She could remember the day as if it were yesterday, it was the last namesday her mother had before the king rode north. Elia had spent a month cutting away at a thick branch to make a sloppy direwolf, Sansa had spent a week sewing one into a dress for their mother - they'd bonded over their shared time together, sitting under the leaves of the weirwood tree.

Sansa hadn't been happy that Catelyn had liked Elia's gift more, she felt the need to compete with Elia to be the perfect daughter but Elia knew she loved them all evenly. She brushed her finger over the snout and trailed in down the edge, MY MOTHER WOULD HAVE NEVER PARTED WITH THIS.