Fire, Ice, and Songs
Disclaimer: A Song of Ice and Fire does not belong to me.
Sandor tells them everything in his delirium. It is his confession, his cleansing, his rebirth in sweat and fire.
He tells them of the men, woman, and even children he killed. He stresses the he. Sandor had been ordered to kill them, but he chose to swing the sword. He chose to follow orders. He watched them beat the little bird and did nothing. Sandor followed his orders in his cloak of white.
He wants to die when he speaks of her, the pretty little bird with her hair of flames. He let them hurt her, he hurt her, and now the little bird was locked forever in a cage of red and gold.
Sandor lives and begins anew. He becomes the Gravedigger of Quiet Isle. The brothers tell him to serve and repent; to allow himself to let go of his anger and hate. To be forgiven. So he digs graves, lives in silence, and watches the sun as it sets the sky ablaze.
Sansa Stark becomes Alayne Stone. She dyes her red hair brown, trades in her fine gowns for plain, practical ones, and she gives up her love of songs. The last one is the hardest to let go of. They had become her hope, something to cling to, even if life was not a song. Sansa learned that, Alayne already knew.
In many ways, Alayne thought Sansa was like her. Sansa had a prison of red and gold, guarded by lions that would have liked nothing more than to rip her to shreds.
Sansa had wanted wings to fly away. She had known a man once that had called her little bird. He was not a knight, but to her he was the truest of all knights. Sansa had cleaned the blood and dirt and ash from his white cloak until it was pure once more.
Alayne had wings. She had flown up and up and up until, almost touching the sun, a mockingbird had caught her an put her in a cage.
The cage was a grand tower of white that rose high into the sky. There, surrounded by snow and white, so much white, Alayne had lost her wings.
Alayne had a great white cloak she liked to sleep under. She always made certain to keep it hidden beneath the thick, heavy blankets of her bed. When she huddled beneath it, listening to the song of wind and snow, Alayne remembered Sansa and wept.