Beta Reader: Another massive thank you to Weshallflyaway for taking time out of her crazy schedule to go over this for me! You are amazing that is all!
Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it. Some belongs to DC comics and the rest is GRRM.
Author's Note: Written months ago and inspired by a scene in Catwoman: The Game. This was meant to be a part of an old meme that was on LJ years ago which goes like this: Pick your favourite pairing write/draw them into a moment/scenario/scene from 5 of your favourite movies/books/tv shows etc.
Sandor Clegane had come to the old abandoned library in search of answers, and the means to put behind a past best left forgotten. He knew she would be there, for the hour was late; it belonged to the wolf, and to her. He knew not why she always preferred the old library only that their paths always seemed to cross there. First it was their battlefield, then later their sanctuary. Only two masks, a world of secrets, and mere scraps of leather kept them apart.
It was only during these rare nights shared that they allowed themselves to forget the world beyond, to truly lose each other in one another's arms. With the rising of the sun, they would then part ways, each returning to their respective sides. She would continue to steal from the Lannisters and their wealthy henchmen, himself included, to ensure the less fortunate had enough medicine, food, and other related supplies to survive. He too, would continue his fight taking down the drug cartels and gangs who served the mockery that was their judicial system. Until they could remain apart no longer, then their paths would cross, either in battle, or in passion, and the cycle would begin again. It was an illusion, he knew, but it was one he had grown entirely dependent on, until now.
Tonight, the Hound made it clear that he only wanted to talk. He was tired of the façade, the games, and the secrets that had kept them apart for so long. He wanted the truth, and he needed some answers. Sandor was fairly certain she felt the same way too.
'The newspapers have taken to calling you the Batman,' came the melodic voice of a woman from the shadows. He scowled upon hearing the mocking name used. He did not bother to ask who was responsible for the call sign. His ex-employers were renowned for paying their debts; whether they felt it was deserved or not.
Watching her lithe form emerge from the shadows, Sandor briefly imagined it was her; the only woman he had ever loved. The ruse could only last so long; the little bird was dead, just like everyone else he had ever cared about. As the lithe beauty silently joined his side, he noted in passing that her body, as always, was covered in the form fitting black leather body suit that she always wore, complete with a mask that revealed only her bright blue eyes and her full red lips.
In all the years he had known her, Sandor never once seen the infamous cat woman's face. Even during their moments of unbridled passion they were always mindful to keep their faces hidden, and their masks firmly in place. It was safer that way for the both of them, a lot less painful too. When he was in her arms, it was not the cat woman he embraced, rather a lover long lost to the cruelty of lions. He knew not who it was who held her heart, but Sandor understood enough to know that she too, imagined he was another man.
'Bloody whoresons, wouldn't know their hands from their arseholes,' he rasped. The masked beauty laughed. He loved the sound of her laughter, it was a golden sound, a familiar sound, one that filled him with guilt and broke his heart all over again.
'Their insult has fallen short of its intent,' she politely answered as she peered over the roof's ledge, observing the decaying city far below. 'Personally, I rather prefer the Hound, over the Batman,' she added. He much preferred the name too. A Hound was loyal, fierce, and did not have to hide in the shadows. A bat was little more than a filthy rat with wings. How the journalists mistook the Hound shaped mask for a bat's head he would never know. He could stake his life that Mayor Tywin Lannister, and his famous daughter Cersei were behind this as well.
'Why are you here, girl? What do you want of me?' he rasped, feeling oddly tired as his eyes drifted from the night sky, to the city far below. Sandor could feel her eyes watching him intently as she considered his words with care. Not unlike his little bird, the cat woman was the very epitome of a perfect little lady. A lady, who just happened to be a highly skilled professional thief.
'Someone I once loved told me, that a dog would die for you but never lie to you, and that they will always look you in the eye,' she whispered, as though speaking to the wind.
Sandor froze, his thoughts once in the present, were now lost to the past. Memories once long forgotten began to replay in his mind. For a moment he felt as though he were no longer the mysterious and deadly warrior of the shadows, but the brutally scarred young teenager he once had been. The young boy whom to his immense joy and disbelief had just discovered his beautiful best friend truly loved him. Years later, he could still recall their first and only night together, as though it were but yesterday. How blissfully unaware and ignorant they had been, that fateful night when they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, that by morning both their worlds would be torn asunder.
Swallowing hard the masked warrior forced his thoughts clear, as he turned to face the elegant thief. He wondered how long she had known the truth, and why she had kept it a secret for so long. Then her blue eyes met his grey orbs and he soon realized that he did not really care. For the first time in as many years, Sandor felt something more than hatred, rage, or sorrow.
'Little bird?' he whispered in disbelief. Alaynne, once known to him as Sansa, merely smiled in reply before proceeding to gently remove the hound mask he wore. He gave no resistance, and neither did she as he removed her cat burglar mask with equal care.
In the moonlight, they stood, holding one another's masks, their eyes never wavering from one another's face. Sansa Stark, his childhood friend, and long lost love had grown only more beautiful with age.
'Don't you know you're supposed to be dead?' he breathed. After all these years, he mused, gingerly reaching out with gloved fingers, to caress her porcelain cheek.
Sansa's eyes softened, as she leaned into his touch, her small fingers carefully slipping around his waist, drawing him near. 'I was, until you restored that life to me,' she softly replied. Wrapping his arms around her, Sandor breathed a shaky sigh as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. She smelled of lemon tea, night flowers, and silent promises waiting to be fulfilled.
'I have waited for so long to tell you the truth, but until you were ready to listen I could only hold my breath, and wait,' she whispered, as his grip around her tightened. 'I've missed you so much.' He could feel the moisture of her tears against his scarred cheek, and realized his own eyes were no longer dry.
'As have I,' he murmured More than you'll ever know, he silently added, before leaning in to kiss her full on the mouth with all the love he bore for her. Eagerly she responded to his passionate kiss leaving him breathless with desire and hungry for more. With a loving smile, and a wink, Sansa took his hand, as together they departed for the makeshift sanctuary of the old library's loft.
It was the first time in years that the two lovers gazed upon one another's face without the shroud of shadows or masks. It was liberating in a way neither could deny, or dare to admit. For the first time in their lives they were ready to embrace the truth they had denied for far too long. Tangled in one another's arms, they breathed in the fires of their passion as beyond the four walls of the old library loft, the night steadily moved onwards to greet the dawn.
After years of sorrow, loneliness, and fighting against the darkness that threatened to consume them, the two lost souls had finally found a peace of their own. Where once they had fought on opposing sides, they now fought side by side, forever united by the truth they sought, and the secrets they shared.
Their identities, along with the truth of their heroism, remained forever a mystery to the world. So long as they had each other, they would have it no other way. Liberated from a past that once held them captive they now fought, each in their own way, for a future that would be free from tyranny and corruption.