POPPY | Game Of Thrones

FIFTY-FOUR

"I told you not to move until I got to you," Jeyne said as she started wrapping what Hermione guessed to be his brother's wrist. Hermione nodded and started to make her way out when Jeyne called for you. "Could you help please?" she asked when Hermione turned back. "This would go a lot quicker if you could tend to..."

"Willem," the boy clutching his waist answered.

Hermione wanted to decline this offer, not just because being in the same room as Jeyne seemed to be the last thing she wanted to do, but because she was fairly certain these boys were Lannisters. Nevertheless, one look at Willem's pain-ridden face Hermione couldn't help, but agree.

Entering the cell again, she pulled the vacant stool towards the Willem and sighed. "Okay, you're going to have to move your hand if you want me to fix you up."

He grimaced, before pulling his hand away. Already Hermione knew it was bad seeing the large blood stain on his shirt. Swallowing, Hermione peeled the cloth away from the wound and witnessed the vertical gash. "Am I going to die?" Willem asked frightfully. The wound was large, spreading from the top of his hip bone to his chest, but it wasn't as deep as it seemed.

"No, we're going to clean it, which might burn... a lot, then we'll wrap you up to keep from infection and in a few months you'll have one hell of a story to tell your mates," Hermione smiled as she looked back at Jeyne's supplies and took what she needed. Some alcohol and gauze would do for now.

"You're Robb Stark's wife," one of the boys said to Jeyne and Hermione almost bit her tongue off as the tension between the two women thickened.

Hermione could feel as Jeyne's eyes glanced over to her and she nodded at the boy in front of her. "Is it true what they say about him?"

"I don't know," Jeyne said as Hermione tried to focus on preparing her supplies and not their conversation. "What do they say about him?"

"That he can turn into a wolf at night."

"True."

"And that he eats the flesh of his enemies."

"True," Jeyne said with a bit of humour laced in her voice. Hermione saw as Willem stared down at her in shock and fear. "You're a Lannister aren't you."

"Martyn Lannister," Jeyne's boy said with pride. "And that's my younger brother Willem."

"Martyn Lannister," the healer repeated. "You have nothing to fear, my husband doesn't eat children. Unless it's a full moon." She looked at Hermione and asked. "It's not a full moon is it?"

In the sense of good humour and for the frightened boys, Hermione smirked and shook her head. "No, I don't think it is."

"See, nothing to fear," she said as she finished wrapping Martyn's wrist. "Well, you're good as new now. Unless you have any other deadly wounds, I going to head up." Martyn shook his head and raced to grab the mutton his brother was so yearning for. "Will you be alright down here alone?" Jeyne asked and Hermione nodded her head silently. Not turning towards her, she heard as her footsteps left the cell and disappeared down the corridor.

Exhaling, Hermione poured a bit of the alcohol on a clean cloth, "This is going to burn," she warned before cleaning the wound and the blood around it. Willem hissed and clenched his teeth down to mask his scream. Hermione tried to be as quick and efficient as she could before tossing the dirtied cloth and getting another clean one from Jeyne's supplies.

"You know, I have a friend named Willem," Hermione tried to start conversation, she didn't know if it was some deeply buried maternal instinct, or it was because something about them—maybe it was the wide eyes, innocent faces, or blonde hair—reminded her of her own brother, Leo. "He's one of the best fighters I know... Not better than me of course, but good."