Darkness had fallen on King's Landing when Griffith finally woke, he groaned and coughed, his throat dry as the dronish desert. Sitting up he fumbled in the dark looking for something to appease his thirst. His numb hands nock a cup and he feels the lukewarm liquid spill over his hand and table. A curse made it past his lips and he tried to save the parchments he had been collecting. He heard a voice from behind the door, "Ser Griffith?" Again he coughed, and managed to call out, "Bring me Sansa!"
"Ser?" the now unmistakable voice of Hullen, called out. "Just do it!"
It was quite a while later when he heard anything from behind the oak door, a low muttering. Then suddenly the door creaked open and Sansa accompanied by Moon and Lady slipped inside. Rushing over to him, Moon jumped onto the bed and curled up beside him. Griffith smiled and combed his fingers through the bone-white hair. Looking back up, he raised an eyebrow, at his fidgeting sister. He sighed and smiled softly, "Come here." Tears began welling up in her eyes and she rushed over, placing the candle down before embracing him. He chuckled and combed his hands through her hair, "Don't cry, I'm perfectly alright." She looked up at him and sniffed, "You've been asleep for 5 days. Maester Pycelle wasn't sure if you'd ever fully recover." She let out another cry and buried her face in his blanket. Lifting her up, he embraced her, "I'm fine, I'm not going to die." Swinging his legs off the side of the bed he groaned and combed his and through his hair, it came back black. He spun to face Sansa, eyes wide, "Did anyone see?" She shook her head frantically, "I don't think so, as soon as I noticed I instructed Hullen not to let anyone enter unless I said so!" Griffith let out a sight and smiled, "Thank the Seven. I couldn't bother you with one more thing sweet sister, could you...?" The Wink, one of the many brothels in King's Landing and his company's new base, according to Dorin. The inside was rowdy as always but he recognised a few of the patrons, his men. Making his way through the rabble he reached the stairs. They were well maintained and polished so hard they shone. At Least Dorin had chosen a better brothel this time. Proceeding down the hallway he heard moaning from every room, and he grimaced, how could they be so uncivilised. Paying some random woman to satisfy their needs. Reaching the last door he smiled, a group of voices was drifting out through the cracks. They suddenly went quiet and he heard the slither of steel. Not planning to end up in his bed again he flung the door open. Dorin, Malrik, and three others were standing around table swords drawn. Their eyes lit up when they saw, "Griffith," Dorin cried, "we thought you were dead!" The other three chuckled. Grabbing Dorin's arm, Griffith pulled him closer, "I just need some sleep." Dorin laughed, " Come in, I'll show you what we've been working on."