Author' Note: This is my first fanfiction I've written for this fandom, which I have six chapters already written and posted on my Tumblr so I will be adding them pretty quickly here, but once I'm caught up updates will slow.
Warning: Sansa x Sandor SanSan shipping, plot rewrite and divergence, mix of book!verse and Show!verse. I'm leaving it as a T rated fic for now but may bump it up to M later.
Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to Geroge RR Martin and I am making no money off this fanfic.
A Sword with Wings
Sansa fled down the corridors of the keep, she wasn't exactly watching where she was going, but it seemed her feet knew the way because she was at the door to her chambers soon enough. The windows lining each hall had given her glimpses of the chaos that was outside.
Fire lit the sky, and everything beneath it. Flames, both natural and unnatural reflected on the clouds, making it hard to determine where the boundary between land and air was. Embers flew like rain and smoke blocked any light not cast by the fires.
It looked like the end of the world.
Yet it will all be over tomorrow, Sansa reminded herself as she opened the door and bolted it behind her. In the morning, the sky will be clear and the sun will shine. It will be a new day.
As Sansa crossed the room she assured herself with this and similar thoughts. She moved a few candles and her hand brushed against a doll. She was too old to play with dolls now that she was a woman, but in her fear and panic she felt like a child and picking it up gave Sansa a small amount of comfort.
Which promptly vanished when a hand reach out of the darkness and yanked her onto the bed. She wanted to scream, but another hand clamped over her mouth, rough and sticky, covered with blood. Sansa almost knew who it was before he even spoke "Little Bird…" A familiar voice rasped, "I knew you'd come…"
Sandor Clegane sat on her bed. A flash from outside illuminated enough of the room that she could make out his figure outlined in an eerie green light, enough detail to see how much blood he was soaked with, and the flask of wine he had on his lap.
He looked like he'd been through Hell…He probably had.
Sansa was seated next to him now and he leaned closer for a moment, "If you scream I'll kill you." He hissed.
Sansa nodded and he removed his hand from her mouth, not to so that she could speak as Sansa had assumed, but simply because he needed a free hand to reach his flask. The Hound took a long drink, but said nothing when he pulled it away, so Sansa gathered her courage to speak. "What are you doing here?" She asked.
"Not here for long." Came the gruff reply, "I'm going…" She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.
"Going?" Sansa was sure she'd never seen the man so drunk before, and she couldn't make sense of what he had started to tell her.
"Good Little Bird, always repeats whatever she hears…" He muttered, "Yes, I'm going."
Sansa resisted the urge to roll her eyes, she was a lady, ladies did not roll their eyes. "Going where?" She tried again.
"Somewhere that isn't…burning…" He replied turning his face away from her again to drink from his wine, his disfigured face was to Sansa and it was all the explanation she needed as for why now. The Hound spoke up again, more musing to himself than actually telling her his plan, "North, might be..could be…"
Sansa sensed a question, or perhaps a request that he wasn't asking. She never had sung him the song she had promised, was that why he was here? Sansa opened her mouth to ask what he wanted but a different question came out, "What about the King?" Surely Joffery would be furious if his dog went up North.
Sandor's head gave a small shake, gods he sounded so tired "The King can die just fine on his own…" He answered. The reply didn't really surprise Sansa, she noticed the Hound's occasional hesitance to do as he was bid.
He looked straight at her suddenly, "I can take you with me…Take you to Winterfell…" Sansa's mouth opened in surprise at the offer, he stood before she spoke though, grasping the hilt of his sword "I'll keep you safe, they're all afraid of me. No one would ever hurt you again, or I'll kill them…Do you want to go home?"
Of course she did. More than anything and now, with the battle raging outside, more than ever. Fear paralyzed her though, she would be safe if she stayed. Stannis wouldn't hurt her once he took the castle, but there was no promise that no one else in his company would do the same, and if she fled with the Hound then there was no telling if they would ever make it to Winterfell.
"You won't hurt me…" Sansa couldn't tell herself if she was asking a question, stating a fact, or had grown bold enough to give a command.
The Hound took a step closer to her, once she would have taken a step back or leaned away, but she remained where she sat as he moved his face into hers. For a second Sansa thought he was going to kiss her and shut her eyes instinctively, but his voice rasped out a promise instead. "No Little Bird, I won't hurt you." he pulled back and her eyes opened again.
Sansa thought of Florian and Jonquil and the song she had promised Sandor, at the moment the lyrics would not come to her, but she remembered that their story had not come without risks.
However, she had been without answer too long for Sandor apparently and he turned around, heading to the door in silence. Sansa stood from the bed and went after him, clutching her doll in one hand and grasping his arm with the other. He cast a sideways glance at her, not knowing if she was agreeing to come or trying to stop him from going.
Words still failed to come from Sansa's lips, but she nodded which was answer enough for the Hound. He unbolted the door and they took off through the halls together. He was fast and Sansa was dragged along behind him, feeling like a burden, but Sandor didn't seem to mind. The castle was still empty so they made it out unmolested.
The street outside was not so empty. Sansa saw no one in the darkness, but she heard shouts and the smash of glass, looters most likely, her heart skipped a beat. Sandor tugged her another way, in the meager light from the fires she saw a horse- Sandor's horse, Stranger. He must have ridden here straight from battle. It wasn't until that precise moment that Sansa realized that the battle was still on.
The Hound had deserted his king.
They reached the horse, Stranger seemed hesitant about Sansa's presence, but didn't make a fuss when Sandor lifted her onto his back. The Hound was about to climb on himself when a shape flew out of the darkness at him, "Watch out!" Sansa cried.
It was too dark to tell who it was; another deserter, one of Stannis's men, or just a looter, but Sansa did hear the clash of metal. She couldn't see the attacker, but reflected light on Sandor's armor made him much easier to see, which meant his enemy could see him too.
Sandor moved closer to her and the horse, Sansa saw something glint in the darkness nearby, Sandor spotted it too, and in a flash of movement that was so quick that Sansa didn't see what happened, it was gone, and a knife was suddenly on the ground beside Stranger. Sandor was fist fighting with the attacker now.
Stranger was fidgeting, wanting to buck her off perhaps. Silently, Sansa slipped off his back to pick up the knife, she sort of expected the horse to take off, but he remained waiting for his rider to finish the fight.
She heard Sandor grunt, the light reflecting from his armor disappeared behind another shape. Sansa's feet moved as if on their own, and the next thing she knew she was plunging the knife into the attacker's back. She hadn't realized what she'd done until she heard his strangled scream. She was frozen with horror at her own actions when the body was pulled away from her with her hand still on the hilt of the knife.
The man wasn't quite dead, but he would be by morning, Sandor tossed him aside and went back to his horse. He was speaking, probably bidding her to come to him. The knife had slipped out of the man's back as he was pulled away and Sansa still clutched it, deaf to everything except the scream of the man she killed echoing in her head.
Sandor grabbed her, hauling Sansa on in front of him as he bid Stranger forward. They galloped through the streets, toward the city gates. Fire kept most people off the streets, and those that were dared not get get in the way of the horse, especially not when his rider wore a white cloak. Sandor kept his arms around Sansa as they rode through the burning city, blocking her from unwanted eyes.
She was vaguely aware of his quickened breathing and his shaking hands as he gripped the reins. He's afraid of the fire…She thought, though that was obvious. Sansa leaned back a little, hoping to give him some small comfort as she squeezed her doll in one hand and a bloody knife in the other.
The escape was a blur to Sansa. A beam fell from somewhere, crashing in front of, embers flying. The horse reared back and Sandor cried out. His grip on the reigns held, which was good because Stranger had bucked with enough force that Sansa would have been thrown off had he not been there.
"Whoa! Whoa!" Sandor got control of his horse, but he had clearly been more frightened by the rain of fire than Stranger had. They backed up and went around another way. Soldiers were gathered at the gate, they probably wouldn't have stopped Sandor from going through them, but he had Stranger passed them, leaving the city a secret way.
The steady gallop became a full run once they were passed the wall. Sansa looked back only once, peeking her head beyond Sandor's body at the burning city. The damage didn't look quite as bad from outside the walls, and Sansa wondered if Stannis truly was winning as she had heard. Too late to change her mind about leaving she turned her head back and faced forward as Stranger ran further and further into the night…
She didn't remember falling asleep, but Sansa awoke to the smell of hay. Her eyes refused to open for a moment or two, thinking she must be only dreaming of hay. Yet, her other senses started to work. She heard the sound of birdsong, too clearly than she should from her chambers, her mouth tasted foul, a side effect from how much wine Queen Cersei had made her drink, and sunlight hurt her even behind her eyelids.
The girl- no, young woman, she was a woman now, she needed to remember that- refused to open her eyes still. Perhaps it was merely a dream hanging about her. Then she felt movement beside her, a strong arm draped over her and a deep dreamy exhale. Her eyes shot open.
And the face of the Hound greeted her.
Sandor Clegane laid with the burned portion of his face buried in the hay, his eyes were still shut and he smelled of wine. Wine and blood, the two scents Sansa was most familiar associating with the man. This should have frightened her, yet the Hound's face was completely relaxed as he slept, his usual sneer and the hard lines of his face smoothed away, making him for a brief few minutes, look years younger.
She held back a gasp, and what happened the night before came back to her. She was not in her chambers, they had fled the city…And ended up where? Sansa wiggled out of Sandor's grasp, worried she would wake him, but the Hound slept on. She sat up and looked around.
It was a farm, but she recognized no more than that. Stranger was tethered in a stable next to a few other horses. She scooted a little and heard Sandor groan beside her. With her no longer casting a shadow over him the sunlight has hit his eyes as it had hers, and in a moment he was opening them.
It was clear he did not immediately remember where he was or how he had gotten there either, but he looked around and seemed to recognize the place. He sat up and offered only a vague explanation. "It'll be hours before anyone notices you're missing, and probably days before they start looking for you. I knew we'd be safe here for the night."
"Do you know who lives here?" Sansa asked.
Sandor didn't answer for a moment, "The wife and children were sent to Tumbleton a week ago, the farmer was summoned to the front line." He told her, "He's dead now, got shot by an enemy crossbow, or a miss fire from our ranks…"
Sansa sensed something unsaid in his explanation. "Was he your friend?" She asked, that would be why he knew no one would be home.
The Hound shook his head, "I don't have friends…" He sighed as he stood up, "…But he was a good man."
"I'm sorry." Sansa said, Sandor helped her to her feet. Sandor looked as if he wanted to tell her she was a silly Little Bird, but his lips did not move, and instead he turned away.
"They would have left some clothes behind, and those are too fancy for a woman on the run. The oldest daughter was only a year or so younger, should fit you…"
"Are you telling me to steal someone's clothes?" She asked, a little shocked.
"Looters will come sooner or later and steal much more. Best take what we can for now." He replied and walked toward the stables to get Stranger ready to leave again.
Sansa did as she was told, the house had no lock so it was easy to get inside. After that it didn't take long to find the girl's room. She supposed Sandor wanted her to change now, and picked a dress to wear while she packed a few of the others into a small bag she found. They were not as fine as she would have liked, but the Hound was right, they were on the run, she could afford to give up a few comforts.
Sansa also took a hairbrush from the girl's bedside, but she felt terrible about taking so much. She still had her doll from the night's flight, it was out in the barn, and she went to retrieve it, finding Sandor out in the fields releasing the horses. Sansa went back inside and placed the doll on the bedside where she found the hairbrush. Perhaps it would be stolen by looters, but Sansa hoped the girl would come home and find it.
Heavy footsteps went about the house, Sandor was looking for things he could take as well, but Sansa doubted he would leave anything behind as she had. Her heart felt a little lighter for leaving the doll, at least. She returned to the stable, Stranger was the only horse left, eating oats that Sandor had gotten for him, the others out in the field grazing. She dared not approach the warhorse without Sandor accompanying her.
A while later Sandor joined her, Stranger kept eating his oats and waited obediently for his master to finish getting him ready to ride. Sansa stepped forward to help, but Sandor put a hand out to stop her, "I wouldn't do that, he'll bite your face off."
Sansa didn't doubt that so she kept back, and stayed quiet while he worked. Sandor gave her the chore of getting one of the other horses back from the field, she thought for her to ride, but when she returned with a mare, Sandor asked her to put the bags of stolen items on her back.
Finally they were ready. Stranger gave a disapproving snort when Sandor lifted Sansa onto his back but once again didn't protest. He tethered the horses together and got on behind her, wrapping his arms around Sansa while he grasped the reigns just as he had the night before.
They left the barn in silence. It was still early, but Sansa caught the sent of smoke on the wind. Sandor didn't seem to be in a hurry and let the horses climb a hill at their own pace. At the top there was a road going North and overlooking King's Landing. Sansa's heart stopped when she saw the city.
"Gods…" Sandor breathed.
"It's still standing…" Sansa's voice shook as she spoke.
Fire still burned in a section of the city near Blackwater Bay, and a few buildings had been scorched to the ground. But far too many still stood after a siege, meaning only one thing.
Stannis's army had not been victorious…