I’m not a squire, nor am I a knight

Washing the dye out of his silvery white hair, Griffith glanced up at the small mirror. His hair was blotchy, black tainting the white. Leaning back down he tried, by combing his fingers through his hair, to get the colour out. Hearing the door creak open, he spun around, a dagger, ready in his hand. Griffith relaxed as he saw Sansa staring at him, her doe-like eyes, wide.

He sighed and placed the dagger down, "Knock next time." Sansa blushed, "Sorry." "It's fine," he then turned and began cleaning his hair again. "Are you sure we shouldn't ask father?" Sansa asked, moving up next to him. "Yes, I'm sure." "But what if he finds out?" Griffith sighed, "Don't you trust me?" "Of course I do!" "Good, now please help me clean my hair.

It took Sansa quite some time to wash and then re-dye Griffith's hair, allowing him to relax and enjoy the atmosphere. The hustle and bustle of the city, the clanging from the courtyard below, the heat, and the smell of the sea. It felt right as if something in him had slotted into place.

It was midday when the two of them reached the royal dining hall. Griffith had been invited to dine with them and with the queen's allowance had taken Sansa with him. They were swiftly let inside, where they were greeted by the royal family, minus the usurper. "Welcome, please sit." the queen said motioning towards two empty seats to her right. "Thank you, my queen," Griffith said, as he pulled out a chair for Sansa.

Seating himself next to the queen, he smiled at the three royal children, "We are most honoured that you invited us to dine with you." Joffrey grinned back, "Well I wouldn't miss an opportunity to see my beautiful wife-to-be." Sansa blushed and looked down at her plate. "

"Are you going to fight in the tournament?" Tommen asked, excitedly. Griffith chuckled, "Sadly not, I'm not a squire, nor am I a knight." Dejectedly Tommen turned to his mother, who smiled. "Griffith, I have decided that from now on you'll squire under my brother." The teen's eyes widened, "Your highness, I am not worthy." The queen smiled and fixed her bright green eyes on him, "Oh I think you very much are."

It was soon after that, that their food arrived, and from then on their conversation devolved into meaningless pleasantries.

Griffith was escorting Sansa back to the Tower of the Hand when they ran into Petyr Baelish, the master of coin. The short man's eyes immediately landed on Sansa, and seeing this Griffith coughed, "My lord Baelish, I believe we have never met," he then extended a hand, which the man quickly took, "Griffith Snow." The master of coin smiled, "Ah yes the bastard of lord Stark. I have heard a lot about you, you seem like a chivalrous man, just like your father." Griffith smiled, "People always like to exaggerate." Lord Baelish's eyes drifted back onto Sansa, "They do, don't they? And you must be Sansa Stark, am I correct." She nodded and curtsied, "You are my lord."

Grabbing his sister's hand, Griffith bowed to Baelish, "It was an honour meeting you, my lord, but we must be going now." The master of coin smiled, "Of course."

***

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please tell me if you see any mistakes.

Sorry for the long absence and for the short chapter, but you'll have another one soon.

Also by popular request, I went back and made it so he had always dyed his hair.

Then I hope you have a nice day or night depending on where you are, goodbye ;)