Before you read this, know that it is my first time writing fan fiction, so be gentle! ;) Sandor "The Hound" Clegane is my favorite GOT character. His character has grown and evolved so much from the beginning and I love who he has become. I desperately want Sandor to find love and I enjoy reading Sandor/Sansa fan fiction, but deep down I'm not sold on Sansa as his perfect match. I hope you like the character I created specifically with him in mind. As this is my first time writing anything like this I am open to constructive criticism! Please review and tell me what you think. I hope you like it!

Chapter One: Homecoming

The morning was a cold one, an icy wind blowing off the Bay of Ice. Chilled to the bone, Jorah stopped at the top of the hill overlooking his family home. The large wooden longhouse was nowhere near as grand as the stone castles of Westeros, but the Mormonts were fiercely proud of their home and he warmed at the sight of it.

He watched wisps of smoke slowly rise from the chimneys, letting his childhood memories flood into his mind. It felt like an eternity since he had last been here. He would never forget the day he left; he had disgraced his house and fled Lord Stark's judgement like a coward. His stomach twisted and the familiar flush of heat crept up his neck, a clammy sweat settled on his brow. He knew this feeling well, his shame hitting him like the waves on the Frozen Shore.

As the feeling washed over him he remembered why he had dared to return to his ancestral home. He had long grown tired of running from his shame and traveled to King's Landing to plead his case with the Crown. His audience with King Robert had been promising; he had offered his service to the Crown in exchange for a full pardon. The King was cautious to trust him, but eventually agreed to his proposal. In return for a full pardon he had only two orders for him: to spy on the Targaryen girl and report her movements to Lord Varys, and to bring his younger sister, Syreena, to court as a show of faith. He assured Jorah that she would benefit greatly from her stay in the Red Keep as the Queen's Ward, and that an advantageous marriage would be arranged for her. Jorah agreed hesitantly, unsure of how Syreena would react to such a demand.

His sister's face rose up in his mind. He hadn't seen Syreena in years and was surprised at how easily he recalled her features: her thick, black hair wild from the sea wind, her green eyes shining like emeralds as she laughed. He remembered chasing her around the keep when she was little; how she squealed with laughter and ran until her pale cheeks flushed from exhaustion. He had been forbidden to see her when he was disgraced. He wondered how she would receive him now.

A bird cried out from a nearby tree and broke his daze. He pulled his cloak around him tightly and continued his march to the old wooden keep, unsure of what he would find there.

Syreena awoke to a chilly morning, the fire burning low in the hearth. Her lady's maid, Wynna, was quietly moving about the chamber, laying out her warm northern frock and underclothes. Wynna jumped as Syreena sat up, yawning.

"My apologies, Milady," she said breathlessly, "I did not mean to wake you."

"No need for apologies, Wynna." Syreena replied, standing, "has the bath water been drawn?"

"Yes, Milady."

Syreena made her way across the chamber and into the adjoining bathing room. She pulled the long nightgown over her head and got into the tub, settling into the warm, fragrant water with a sigh. Wynna came into the room after a short while and helped her wash out her long, black hair. Syreena relaxed and closed her eyes, letting Wynna wash out her hair in silence. When she was done Wynna brought Syreena a thick linen covering to dry with, and helped her out of the tub. Syreena quickly dressed in her warm underclothes and and dark green frock and sat down at the vanity. Wynna dried and brushed out her long black hair until it gleamed in the torchlight. Syreena studied her face in the mirror, trying to picture her late mother sitting in the same spot. She had been told countless times that she favored her mother, but had no memory of her to compare herself to. She thought of her father away at Castle Black, and her exiled brother, Jorah. The familiar feeling of loneliness came over her and she looked away quickly, pushing back the flood that threatened to fill her emerald eyes. She was very much alone at Bear Island, with only her Aunt Maege's daughters as companions. She loved her family fiercely, but couldn't help but feel the differences between them growing more and more each day.

Maege and her daughters were fierce warrior women and were happier in leather and mail than in corsets and gowns. Syreena, like all of the women of Bear Island, had been thoroughly trained in the art of sword play and had been given her own short sword and dagger on her 10th nameday. Her father wielded Longclaw, House Mormont's ancestral Valyrian Steel sword, and had personally requested her matching set be made in its likeness. They were not Valyrian Steel, but had the same silver bear on the pommels. Syreena glanced at the weapons laying on the chest at the end of her bed, her most prized gifts from her father. She was proud of her blades and the skill she possessed with them, but preferred to adhere to a more ladylike standard, following in her Lady mother's footsteps. She knew her fate was sealed as the daughter of a Lord; she would someday marry a lord or a knight and manage his holdfast and bear his children. She had accepted this long ago, but still held hope that she might find happiness in her arrangement.

Wynna pulled Syreena's hair back from her temples and braided the pieces together in the back. The rest of her hair was left free to fall to her waist. Syreena rose from her seat at the vanity and clasped a wide metal belt around the smallest part of her waist. She let Wynna place a black cloak over her shoulders and she left her chamber to join her family in the great hall.

She heard the sounds of laughter and boisterous conversations long before she reached the great hall. The hall was filled with people. Most were men of Bear Island's small army; older men breaking fast with their wives and children, younger men seated together in groups, sharing tales of war and women. Serving girls moved between the tables, clearing used dishes and bringing more food to the guests. A few were less focused on their task, huddled together giggling and blushing as they caught the eye of a young soldier. Her heart warmed at the sight of them, her large extended family. She had grown up among these people, heard their stories, shared in their camaraderie.

Her Aunt Maege and her daughters were already seated at the large table at the end of the hall, laughing and feasting together. She slowly moved through the crowd toward them, greeting familiar faces with a smile. Several men rose from their seats as they saw her coming, she nodded graciously at each one.

Maege turned her attention to Syreena as she approached the table.

"Syreena!" She roared, "Glad to have your pretty face in our midst!"

Syreena smiled wide and embraced her beloved aunt, who planted a kiss on her cheek. She greeted each of her cousins as she moved down the table, taking a seat next to Maege's youngest daughter, Lyanna. The child was the fiercest of all Maege's daughters, she was small in stature but carried herself like a commanding general. She was well into an argument with her older sister, Lyra, when Syreena sat down.

"Don't tell me when I'm ready for tourney swords, Lyra." She commanded, "I'm already twice the swordswoman you were at my age and I won't be left here to defend Bear Island with a stick of wood."

The older girls chuckled and applauded her ferocity, quelling her anger by agreeing to let her train with tourney swords later that day. Lyanna smiled to herself proudly for having won the debate.

Syreena watched her aunt as she moved about the hall speaking with her men. The old woman was dressed in her usual leathers and mail, her gray hair hanging wildly around her shoulders. Her face was battle-scarred and worn from time, but her bright eyes still blazed like wildfire when she spoke of war with her men. Maege was often said to be willful and short-tempered, but Syreena only knew her as the strong and caring woman who raised her as one of her own daughters.

Suddenly the hall fell silent, all eyes on the man standing alone in the entryway. Syreena stood on her toes to try to get a better look, but her view was completely blocked by the men beginning to stand from their tables, hands on their sword hilts.

"Clear the hall, now." Maege roared from the middle of the crowd. Immediately there was a mass exodus from the great hall, every man, woman, and child heading for the entryway. Despite the large number of people moving together, an uncomfortable quiet had settled over the hall. Syreena tried to get a glimpse of her aunt, but Maege was surrounded by her most trusted advisors and the crowd was herding Syreena out of the hall. She forced her way from the throng of people just outside the doorway and found her cousins all together. They shared an unspoken look of uncertainty and watched as the heavy wooden doors closed behind the last to exit.

Jorah stood in the middle of the great hall in front of Maege and the 5 men who made up her council. He knew them all by name, he had known them his whole life. He did not dare show any familiarity with them, he knew his position was a precarious one and he was careful not to step out-of-bounds with his Aunt Maege, the Lady of Bear Island.

Maege broke the uncomfortable silence, "Because you are my nephew, I will grant your request for an audience. Speak now, Jorah, and pray that I do not send for Lord Eddard's Justice."

He shifted uncomfortably and took a breath, carefully preparing the words.

"Lady Mormont, I have been given the promise of a full pardon from King Robert." He started, "I have with me a decree with the seal of the king." He pulled the rolled parchment from his pack and handed it to the man sitting to her right. Maege rose menacingly from her chair, eyes shining.

"You mean to return here and take Bear Island from me?" She growled, her hand going to the mace laying on the table between them. It was her weapon of choice, and she was feared across the seven kingdoms for her skill and ferocity with it.

"No, my Lady. My right to the lordship of Bear Island is forfeit. I am now in the service of the Crown." He said quickly, "It was not my wish to come here and offend you, my Lady; I know I disgraced this House and I know you have fought to bring honor back to the Mormont name." He paused for a moment, watching Maege as she settled back in her chair.

"What is it you want, Jorah?" She commanded.

"My sister." He replied.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the doors opened and a stout, graying councilman stepped into the foyer.

"Syreena, milady," he called, "The Lady Mormont requires your presence now."

Startled, Syreena walked slowly toward the door, her cousins immediately following behind her.

"Just the Lady Syreena." He added, stopping Maege's daughters in their tracks. Syreena turned to Dacey, the oldest, who reached out reassuringly and lead her to the door. Syreena took a deep breath, and walked into the great hall. As she entered the room, she quickly surveyed her surroundings. The intruder stood in front of the high table where Maege and her council were seated. No one spoke as she walked slowly toward the table. Maege stood and beckoned for her.

"Come, child. Your brother has traveled a long way to see you."

Syreena gasped slightly, stopping to process what she had just heard. She glanced at the intruder, her brother, and a thousand questions brimmed on her tongue. Remembering her courtesies, she remained quiet and did as her aunt asked. She walked to the end of the table and turned around, squaring off to the man who betrayed her family. As a child she had dreamt of this moment a thousand times, that her brother would come back for her and she wouldn't be alone on the cold island anymore. Over the years her hope had turned cold and fallen away. After a moment her confusion gave way to anger, and she stood there, expressionless, waiting for someone to speak.

Maege spoke slowly, her teeth clenched in anger, "Syreena, sweetling, your brother has returned with a decree from the king commanding that you travel to King's Landing immediately and join the court as the Queen's Ward."

The words hit her like a wave of ice. Her blood ran cold and tears threatened to fall. She stood her ground, dug her nails into her palms, and showed no emotion. She turned to her Aunt Maege, who was standing at the table, red-faced with anger.

"What will you have me do, my Lady? It is your command I obey, not the word of a traitor." Syreena replied calmly, her voice strong. Maege straightened proudly, a slight smile curving her lip.

"I would send Robert Baratheon and his Lannister bitch this man's head and invite them to fall upon this army." Maege growled, "but this decision I leave to you."

Syreena thought over her aunt's strong words, tears once again stinging at her eyes. She knew if it came to war with the Crown her people would fight bravely, each with the strength of ten mainlanders. She was no military strategist, but even she knew they would be sorely outnumbered. She could not let her beloved family lose their lives because she was afraid. She prayed silently for strength and made her decision.

"I will go with him to King's Landing."

Jorah turned and caught sight of Syreena as she entered the hall. She was several years older and had grown into a woman in his absence. His heart welled with pride as he assessed his sister; she was tall for a woman and slender in frame. She moved with the silent grace of a highborn Lady, yet he knew she had been trained to fight by Maege herself, and for that she must be skilled with a blade. He surveyed her face, her pale features were soft and feminine, the resemblance to their Lady mother was uncanny. Her black hair fell down her back to her waist, her green eyes shining like emeralds. Their eyes met as Maege informed Syreena of his identity. A look of recognition and surprise showed briefly on her face, and then quickly disappeared. His heart fell slightly as she looked away from him in disdain.

He watched silently as Maege broke the news to her, and stiffened when his beloved sister called him a traitor. He understood her anger, he had been living with his own shame for many years. He studied her face as she carefully thought over the choices in front of her. Though she hid it well, he could see the fear and sadness in her eyes as she agreed to leave with him. He breathed a sigh of relief, careful not to smile in front of Maege, who looked as though she would split him in two with a swing of her mace.

He was escorted into the foyer to wait for Syreena to gather her belongings and prepare for the journey. People passed him as he waited uncomfortably. He received no kindness from anyone, no hint of familiarity. He expected nothing less from these proud people, and he did not blame them for hating him. Despite his surroundings, he was inwardly triumphant. He would surely get his pardon now.

Syreena entered her chamber and slammed the heavy door closed, finally letting the tears fall freely. She took a few steps toward the bed and her legs gave out from under her. She pulled her knees to her chest and she cried until she felt ill. Maege entered the room, pulled Syreena to her feet and led her to the bed. They sat down and Maege pulled her into a warm embrace, stroking her hair soothingly. Wynna arrived breathlessly, looking to Maege for instruction.

"Wynna, gather Lady Syreena's things and pack them in her trunk." Maege quietly commanded, still holding Syreena as she sobbed. "And bring warm water for the washbasin." She pulled Syreena back and held her up at arm's length. "Syreena, look at me. Stop crying, child."

Syreena breathed deeply, pushing back the flood of tears. She closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. She opened her eyes and looked at Maege's worn face, her own bright eyes shining. She couldn't bear to say goodbye to this woman, the only mother she had ever really known. Wynna brought the washbasin and a clean linen cloth and Maege washed Syreena's tear-stained face in silence. The words didn't have to be spoken, they could feel the love they shared between them, like a mother bear and her cub.

"The girls will be wanting to see you now." Maege said, breaking the silence. Syreena nodded, afraid to speak. The sadness filled her and drained her strength. She stood, straightening her cloak and pinching her cheeks to bring a blush to them. She didn't want them to know she was upset, especially little Lyanna. Wynna opened the door and all five girls came filing in, each embracing Syreena in turn. She stood amongst them, studying their faces. Surrounded by these fierce women, she felt her strength returning. They were all smiles and wished her well, vowing to see her again someday. When Wynna had packed everything she owned into the chest, Maege picked up her dagger and short sword, looking at them thoughtfully. She brought them to Syreena and helped her fasten the leather belt that held their sheaths around her waist.

Maege spoke quietly, her words forever engrained in Syreena's mind, "You'll be needing these, child. Don't forget who you are. You are a beauty, those southron women will try to make you their pet, but no gilded cage can hold a Bear."

Jorah eyed his sister cautiously as she entered the foyer followed by Maege and her band of warrior daughters. She wore the short sword and dagger their father had given her at her waist. As she approached him her brow furrowed, her expression unreadable. She turned to the women and said nothing, just an understanding nod exchanged between them. She turned and walked briskly past him toward the door.

"Aren't you coming?" She asked coldly as she passed.

He nodded, following behind her and the men carrying her trunk. They loaded it onto a cart and followed behind Syreena and Jorah as they trekked to the boat he had tied to the dock. The men loaded the large chest into the skiff and headed back to the keep, nodding to Syreena as she thanked them. They were alone at last. She did not speak to him, and when he offered his hand to help her into the boat she brushed past his hand icily. They sailed in silence across the Bay of Ice toward Sea Dragon Point, where a dozen gold cloaks waited to escort them to King's Landing.

She watched Bear Island disappear into the fog and mist as they sailed. She knew her life was changed forever and she wondered if she would see the old wooden keep again in her lifetime . A single tear betrayed her, falling slowly down her face. She wiped it away quickly, looking out over the water. Her brother rowed in silence, watching her face. They had a lot to discuss between them, but she couldn't bring herself to talk at the moment. There would be plenty of time for that in the journey to come.