Dangerous Animals

Chapter Six

Sansa awoke to a soft but urgent fist banging against her door. "Lady Stark, it's Brienne, may I come in?"

She rubbed her eyes and yawned, why did it seem so early? "Yes, yes, come in." As Sansa took in her surroundings, she noticed the bright rays of sun forcing themselves through the small window in the corner of her bedchambers. What time was it?

The question needed not remain unanswered for long, as Brienne lumbered into her chambers. Her protector and closest friend looked as tired as Sansa felt, as her bright blue eyes examined the disaster of a room. The sheets that once draped Sansa's bed were on the other side of the room and broken glass decorated the floor, although Sansa did not know what the object had once been. Perhaps a mirror. "Sansa," Brienne said, "it's nearly nine in the morning."

That broke Sansa out of her haze faster than any amount of cold water. She could not remember the last time she had slept so late. Cursing, Sansa rose from her bed, resenting the small window in the corner of her room. It almost seemed as though it was taunting her, the sole reason for her late awakening. At Winterfell, every chamber has at least one window, and far bigger than this. But it did no good to dwell on Winterfell, at least not at this moment. She was late, well about to be, and Sansa of House Stark was never late.

"Brienne, please let in the poor girls standing outside my door to help me dress," she had seen them when Brienne had opened the doors to chamber. Brienne opened her mouth in protest, she clearly wanted to discuss something with Sansa alone, but now was not the time. "We will talk after I break my fast with Daenerys and Tyrion, but for now I must get ready."

Two young girls were ushered into the room by Brienne, both with long dark hair and bronze skin. Sansa assumed they were Dothraki, but without the distinct leathers and bells it was difficult to be sure. Sansa was sure, however, that these two sweet girls were most definitely spies, and by the way her friend's eyes followed them- she was aware too. They both allowed a small curtsey and set to work, removing the dresses from Sansa's trunk, ignoring the mess on the ground. She still wasn't quite sure when her chambers had become a disaster, but that didn't matter, at least at the moment.

As the girls worked to lace up Sansa's gown, their eyes were clearly drawn to the ugly scars carved into Sansa's back. One girl let out a small gasp, that immediately made Brienne set her stony eyes onto the girl. Sansa herself would have been scared at the tall woman's glare if it was directed at her. After that there were no more comments or sounds coming from either of the girls' mouths. The younger handmaid of the two, perhaps ten and three, began to braid Sansa's long coppery hair into an elaborate style, similar to the one worn my Daenerys during their short encounter. Sansa opened her mouth to protest, as she much preferred the simpler, Northern styles, especially after leaving King's Landing, but decided against it, wanting to please Daenerys as much as possible. Making people like you was the best way to control them, Cersei had taught her that, and Margaery had only reiterated it.

Small hands pulled at her head, and Sansa winced internally. They were pulling too hard, a problem that she had never had with Shae. Her favorite handmaiden. She had seemed to know what Sansa needed more than Sansa ever had herself, and the Lady of Winterfell sincerely hoped that her strange and foreign friend had escaped King's Landing, though she doubted the thought with every passing moment. The girl finally finished, and curtseyed, her friend following in her footsteps.

"What are your names?" She asked abruptly, standing up from the small dressing table. Sansa Stark did not remotely trust these girls, nor did she have any disillusions of their true intentions, but she would not let it be told that she was rude to any being on Dragonstone, except perhaps the dragons.