Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following Characters, they are all from the wonderful imagination of GRRM.
This is my first attempt at this sort of thing, so please be gentle. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.
Chapter 1
Alone.
That is all she felt, her world was burning around her, swathes of green fire burning the bay. How could she have dreamt for so long that this was the place she was meant to be? To stand beside the golden-haired king, to be his loyal lady wife. She could scarcely believe the turns her life had taken. She had dreamt for so long about the lords and ladies of high court, the splendour, the luxury and what had she received in return? pain, loss, punishment and fear. Her family scattered in the four winds, the daughter of an accused traitor, unknowing where her mother and lord brother were and her younger siblings scattered in the aftermath of her father's death at the hand of Ser Ilyn, ordered by the boy she was betrothed, in whom she had placed so much of her girlish hopes of love happiness and children. The boy who had uncovered his darker more sadistic side over the course of time, exacting his pleasure from her beaten body, she still bore the bruises of her last beating.
Sansa Stark stood by the window of her room, surveying the devastation caused by the Lannisters and the Baratheons. "How can i leave?" she wondered silently to herself. I have no friends, no allies no one I can trust. The only person who had shown her any semblance of kindness was the brutish, violent Hound, and even then this kindness had come in the form of torture his mocking sardonic gaze, she recalled with fear their first meeting in Winterfell. Surveying that face for the first time, the twisted snarl, the lank hair, the burns, by gods the burns, never in her short life had she witnessed a trauma as menacing as those, giving the Hound a fearsome look which matched his reputation. But even then he had shown small kindness to her.
She knew of the torture he had experienced at the hands of his brother, the mountain, an apt name for a man so large. Sansa reflected on the Hound, this was an appropriate moniker for this fearsome man, loyal and ferocious. By gods he was loyal, always at Joffreys side willing to do his bidding as a good dog should.
Sansa felt hopeless, that she had reached the end of her path of this life with no were to turn, she had lost all hope of being saved like the ladies of her books. Fairytales, that is all they were. She felt foolish that she had paid so much heed in them. Her knight had become her captor. Here she was a daughter of Winterfell, with the ice of the north running through her veins, the blood of the direwolf, strong and ferocious, something to be feared. Yet here she stood, a little song bird, trapped in a gilded cage. A cage of her own making. Only brought out to entertain and amuse. She felt weak.
There was a time when she was proud to be this little bird, she thought of herself as beautiful, soul full and able to fly away if she needed. These things had become a false lie. She was trapped.
Sansa turned to gather her thoughts, to draw her eyes away from the devastation before her. She moved to the door way fear growing in her belly at the commotion which seemed to be growing closer and closer to her door. As she moved to close the door she became aware of a hulking presence near the end of the corridor. By Gods, they had come for her, they had breached the battlements. The shape started to move towards her doorway, Sansa stood struck still by fear, the loud thud of boots, the chink of armour as the shape moved surprisingly swiftly for such a large mass. As the presence grew closer, realisation dawned over Sansa of who this being was. The Hound.
Sansa stumbled back into her chambers as the Hound filled her doorway, Sansa opened her mouth to scream but the Hound was at her neck, she felt his hands closing around her windpipe and the sharp steel of his dagger pressing to her life blood. "Little Bird" he snarled, "I hear you start to sing, sing to me little bird, sing of the horrors which you see before you" As Sansa opened her mouth to fulfill his request the hound let go of her leaving her to crumple to the floor, he turned around to the window, Sansa absorbed the scene before her the great shoulders of this man who terrified her so, the man who had haunted her nightmares for so long and who always seemed to be watching, watching so intently of every move she made. She noticed the long white cloak around his shoulders, a mark of the kings men, although this was no longer the pure white she was used seeing. This was now brown and red and black, it looked as battle-scarred as the man who was before her.
"What are you still doing here little bird, why havent you flitted away?" The hound muttered without turning to look at her. "I have no where else to be Ser, no where that I can be safe, my kinsmen are scattered" Sansa replied staring at her hands. The hound turned to look at her.
"Look at me little bird" the Hound requested harshly, as Sansa turned her eyes to face him, every fibre of her being wanted to avert her gaze from the man she saw in front of her, she felt repulsed not in so much of the man that stood before her but by the man she knew he was, the hard callous man, the man who had stood by whilst she received beating after beating at the hands of Kingsguard on the order of Joffrey. Yet she willed her self to stare long into this mans face, to drink in every crack, crevice and mark on his face. Sansa noticed the hounds eyes, a grey stormy colour, the colour of winter, of the north.
"I see you can look at me now little bird" the Hound grunted at her.