Bloodshed °Sansa Stark

ONE

THE WEIGHT OF A HEAVY AXE ON SIEGEFRID'S SHOULDER BARELY BOTHERED HIM. A weapon, grown familiar in his hands, over all these years. Years of slaughtering villages and taking whatever they wanted. It seemed part of these men's natures. Even when asleep, just like he was right now, atleast one weapon close at hand. What else could you expect from men brought up like wild hounds. The past few weeks, however, seemed to be one of his most boring ones. Instead of getting to shed blood of filthy rich men, he had to wait around in the woods for a sign that might never appear. If it wasn't for the orders of his lady, he would've searched for trouble a long time ago. How Siegefried missed the warmth of blood coming in contact with his skin, the screams of people anything but innocent and the stench of bodies being burned. Now he was stuck with a lady knight and her squire.

At the beginning of their journey, the lady corrected him about her being a knight. He, however, still saw her as a knight and his response, while munching on an apple was a quiet, "You are far more honorable than most knights out there."
Both of the warriors he was assigned to seemed wary of him. He was after all a ruthless killer. The boy, Podrick, seemed to try and make conversation with him occasionally, but mostly got grunts in response. The lady, Brienne, had given up after a week.

"Dinner's almost ready," Siegefried muttered, staring at the roasting rabbit. The lady knight, who came into view, with a similar animal looked quite annoyed.
"When did you get that? It was my task to hunt for food."
Siegefried simply shrugged while playing with the axe in his hands.
"We have some for tomorrow then."
Brienne opened her mouth ready to speak again, but saw the bored look on the man's face and shut it again. By now, she knew that look meant he wouldn't speak again.

This was normal already. Pod usually was able to get about four sentences from Siegefried a day, if he was lucky. When conversation would start between Brienne and Podrick, he would simply sit in the distance and listen carefully to every word they spoke. This man was not one to relax. He always had his guard up and acted like the spy he was brought up to be. That was his task with the Grounders: Get his way into enemy territory and spy. Magnuss had never had a boy this useful at his disposal. Siegefried seemed to mend with the shadows as soon as his spying started. There hasn't ever been a time where he was spotted or caught.

Siegefried rested his back against one of the large trees and closed his eyes for a second. How long would they have to waste time on this dammed princess? Who even said she was alive? She could be rotting in her chambers, for all he could care.
A sigh escaped his mouth. She was Aelyn's sister of course. Even if Aelyn was a monarch, she still managed to become his friend. But hearing all the stories of her younger sister, he doubted she could ever be anything close to Aelyn. Sansa seemed to be the perfect example of a spoiled brat raised in a good family. He already hated the thought of having to rescue a girl like that. He grew an immediate distaste for the girl from the stories alone. The stories about Arya, were his favorite. The little rebel was exactly what he found entertaining. Jon Snow was someone he had somewhat of respect for. He too would know what it felt like to be hated because one of your parents couldn't be fateful to their spouse.

Siegefried still felt the burn of a sword slashing across his chest from time to time. Only the gods know why he was brought back to life. Did the gods like bloodshed just as much as him? Is that why they brought him back? To kill? If that was not his purpose then they would surely displeased. A smirk appeared on his face and one of his hands found their way to his necklace. Siegefried played with the little fingerbone attached to it. It once belonged to that wretched king Joffrey. He still remembers the day he and his brothers snuck into the Sept and cut one of his fingers off. One more king dead. How he wished he was the one to kill that spoiled devil. It was because of him, he had died. On one hand he should be grateful. Without Joffrey he would have never become the skilled killer he was today.

"lady! Lady! It's the signal!"
Siegefried's eyes sprung open and Podrick stood at the end of his feet, out of breath. The squire dropped the collected firewood in a haste.
"Lady Sansa has lit the candle."

Just a short introduction to Siegefried.