Inspired by "Say Something" by A Great Big World
V
"Sansa"
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
His hands cupped her face, forcing those cold, dead eyes to look at him. There was not a single spark of recognition in them. If he didn't know any better, he could believe it wasn't her. She was so different; her hair was dark, it hung around her shoulders lifeless and thin.
Her skin was much paler and her bones more prominent beneath. She breathed slowly through dry, cracked lips and her face was blank. She looked at him, but she didn't know him. Not anymore.
I'll be the one, if you want me to.
He cursed himself to the seven hells that he hadn't come for her sooner. Who knows how long she had been locked here, deep in the cells of the Vale, shivering and starving.
Baelish had mocked him when he demanded to know where she was. Stories had circulated about the lord protector of the Vale, that his bastard born daughter was really the Lady Sansa Stark, smuggled out of the capitol.
Sandor had not believed it at first, Brienne had been of more faith.
Anywhere I would've followed you.
He should have taken her away that night.
When the Blackwater was on fire, green flames lighting the sky, he went to her. He had held a knife to her throat and made her sing to him.
She had been so terrified, so small, so tender. He had been ashamed of himself for treating her like all those she feard - all those he a tried to protect her from.
He had left without her - why would she come with him? She had no reason to trust him, no affection. He had cringed after, thinking how stupid and pathetic he had been.
He should have taken her, dragged her kicking and screaming through the city if he had to.
If he had, she wouldn't be here now - he would have taken her home.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
Still she sat there. Her silence was the worst part. She didnt scream, didn't cry, did nothing. She just looked at him with those dead eyes.
He would laugh, had the situation been different, he would have teased her that finally she could look into his eyes.
What had happened to her?
And I am feeling so small.
He felt useless.
He called her by her name. Still she said nothing.
He shook her shoulders, gritting his teeth at the feel of her bones so prominent.
His anger grew and Brienne warned him to be careful.
It was over my head
He wanted to scream at her.
He wanted to strike her.
He wanted to kiss her, hold her, make her forget everything.
He wanted to do something, anything that would help.
I know nothing at all.
He slumped, defeated. His arms fell to his side, knuckles brushing against the cold, stone floor.
He remained kneeling infront of her, Brienne behind him.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat and he couldn't look at her eyes anymore. He studied her hands instead; small, pale, clasped in her lap neatly.
He smiled, despite himself.
"sitting like a proper lady...even now..."
He blinked away his tears.
And I will stumble and fall.
Why did he think he could have saved her? Him? The Hound?
He couldn't save his sister from Gregor.
And now, he couldn't save Sansa.
I'm still learning to love
"Do you remember me, little bird?"
A finger twitched but other than that she remained still.
"Do you remember the Hound?"
He was't sure what he was doing, the words were tumbling out of their own accord.
He spoke of the first time he saw her in Winterfell. He told her how he thought her father was a fool, but the best fool a man could be. He was honourable and trusting and believed in what was fair and right. He told her that when he rode into Winterfell and laid eyes on her, the rage inside him dulled. His eyes had followed her; the girl with blazing hair, blue eyes and a direwolf by her side.
He told her of her first day in court, she had wore a blue dress that day, her hair pinned back from her face.
He told her of the rage inside him when Joffrey had her beat. How much he hated the golden haired prince. How he had wanted to kill him and steal her, unable to believe the God's cruelty that she should belong to such a monster.
He told her of the time he wiped blood from her lip, covered her with his cloak, caught her from falling down the serpentine, saved her from the mobs, from the men who wanted to ruin her.
Just starting to crawl.
His voice caught and he couldn't speak anymore.
He wanted to tell her so much, but he couldn't.
He could hear Brienne crying softly behind him, he forced himself to ignore her, forcing himself to tell Sansa what he needed her to hear.
It was difficult, he was the Hound, fiercest warrior in all of Westeros.
He showed no weakness, he was loyal to his master and did not question orders. He killed for joy and was not afraid to die. Was not afraid to spit at the Gods and mock their ways.
And I will swallow my pride.
"You made me better, little bird."
The cell was so quiet beside his rasping voice echoing in the dark.
"You gave me a reason to fight. You made me believe an old, scarred dog like me could find some happiness."
He frowned and had to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching for her hands, to hold her.
"I envied you for your fantasies. You lived with the hope that you would have a prince sweep you away. My dreams were destroyed when i got my scars. Do you remember when i told you that story? I had wanted you to understand me. I couldn't bear the though of you looking at me and seeing the monster everyone else saw."
Her hands were shaking slightly.
"i wanted to protect you, to shield you from feeling any pain."
You're the one that I love
His eyes found hers again, he almost believed he could see life in them.
"I loved you, little bird."
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his scars and through his hair, "Gods be damned you're the only thing i've ever loved."
And I'm saying goodbye.
He couldnt stay anymore. He wasn't the one she needed, that much was clear to him.
He sat back, moving to stand.
Small hands, so weak clung to him.
He looked down at her alarmed and those fingers clawed at his armour and chainmail, finally clutching to the collar of his tunic.
She looked up at him, tears streaking her cheeks.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
"You won't hurt me."
And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.
"No, little bird, i won't hurt you."
And anywhere I would've followed you.
She sobbed, burrying her face into his neck, arms wrapped around his neck.
He held her to him, running his hands down her back, holding her so close that there was not a breath of air between them.
Say something, I'm giving up on you.
"Gods, Little bird, i thought i lost you."
Say something
"I knew you would come for me, Sandor."