Chapter One: Sansa's Choice

Sansa ran into her chambers, slamming the door shut behind her and sliding the lock. For a moment she leaned against it, chest heaving as she drew in quick, sharp breaths. She walked across the room, picking up her doll and trying to stop herself from thinking about what was going to happen next. Shae had insisted that she got back to her rooms and lock herself in. They were losing the war. Horrible thoughts swirled through her mind, and it was then that she heard his voice speaking from somewhere behind her.

Spinning around, Sansa gasped in surprise. The Hound of all people was in her room, waiting for her to return. "The lady is beginning to panic." He stated, standing up, the dim lighting from the candle flickering over his features, making the burns look even more horrid than usual. His face was slick with sweat and blood..there was so much blood. It was all over his armor, but he didn't seem too badly injured as he approached, his height making him loom over her.

"I could keep you safe," he rasped. "They're all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them." The Hound said, gripping her shoulders tightly after telling her that he planned to leave King's Landing..offering to take her with him, take her to Winterfell. "Do you want to go home?" He asked, the reek of wine on his breath was strong, alerting her to the fact that he had been drinking, but his words had gotten through. Yes, she wanted to go home. She wanted it more than anything. She stood there, terrified and unable to even open her mouth for a few moments as her wide eyes stared up at him, for once not looking at his burns, but into his own eyes.

"You won't hurt me." She said, her voice trembling but managing to keep eye contact. She knew then that she was right. The Hound had scared her plenty..but somehow the fear had gone away. In that moment even covered with the blood of the men he had slain, The Hound just looked tired.. She knew what he was capable of, but he had never once hurt her. He had done the opposite, being one of the very few to defend her and show her any semblance of kindness. Still she was unable to forget that he was a killer. He had even once told her that killing was the sweetest thing there is.

"No little bird, I won't hurt you." He replied, his voice seemingly resigned. It was then that The Hound had simply turned around and began walking towards the door and she knew then that he was leaving, and it would be the last she saw of him. She should have been relieved. He was larger and stronger than her, capable of doing anything that he might want and she wouldn't have been able to prevent it. Yet once again, he hadn't hurt her. Instead of being relieved that he was leaving, she felt fear. Fear added onto the terror that was already coursing through her. He had stopped men who planned to rape her during a riot, and even stepped in between her and Joffrey at one point. Whenever he left, she would be even more vulnerable to the King...that was if Stannis didn't win, at least. If Stannis won, she still had no idea what to expect. He could kill her..she was betrothed to Joffrey after all.

"Wait!" Her voice had called out, surprising herself. "I want to go home." She whispered, her eyes filled with tears. Sansa was in no way certain that she was making the right choice, but with the chance to return to her family and get away from here, she felt that she had little else to lose. 'Besides your life.' a small voice in her thoughts reminded her. She was trusting The Hound with her life, and it could very well prove to be a fatal mistake.

He said nothing as they walked through the halls. He hadn't allowed her to bring anything from her room with her, telling her that they were leaving at once. With every step that she took behind the large man, she questioned what she was doing. She was terrified. It was quiet here. Too quiet. Most likely everyone were either hiding or fighting. They eventually made it to the stables where he hoisted her up onto an enormous horse, before pulling himself up behind her. Sansa attempted to sit to the side, the way ladies were taught, but it still felt strange and her dress was bunched around her legs, making it difficult to move them even if she had wanted to. She hadn't ridden horses very much at all. She'd never liked it. They were nice to look at, but up close they made her a bit nervous. Now however, that was the last thought in her mind.

"What are they doing?" She asked, shocked to see a couple of other people climbing on top of a horse not too far away. She recognized one of them. The woman was a handmaiden to one of the ladies here. The last Sansa had seen, that same woman had been with the others, where she had left Shae.

The Hound barely glanced at the man and woman, more focused on rearranging his sword and preparing to leave. "Getting out before this city is burnt to the ground, I'm guessing." He rasped, reaching around to her take a hold of the reins as they watched the people on the other horse disappear from sight. "They've got the right idea." He muttered, and in the next second the horse began moving.

Sansa tensed, grabbing onto the horse's mane with both hands. The position was uncomfortable and she had to turn her body to do so, but she wouldn't have felt safe only holding on with one hand, and wasn't about to grab a hold of The Hound's arm that caged her in.

"Best hold tight, girl. We aren't going to be moving slowly and the last thing I need is you falling off the bloody horse." He warned her gruffly. As they left the stable, Sansa began to panic once more, not knowing what to expect. A war was raging around them. Would that mean that she would witness it? Sansa didn't want to. She didn't want to see any of it. The sounds alone were painting a very unpleasant picture in her mind as it was.

Swords clashing, people screaming and explosions were all around her. Everywhere that Sansa looked, there was fire. Green wildfire. As they rode through the cobblestone streets, she didn't see the actual fighting like she had thought she might. They must not have made it this far into the city yet, then. Still it was chaos out here. Peasants were running around, and Sansa wondered what they were doing. Perhaps they were leaving as well. For some reason, that thought comforted her. Even if it weren't true, it made her feel better to think that she wasn't alone in this, and that her decision to leave with The Hound had been a smart one.

These people were the families of the men that were out there fighting and dying right now. Wives and children who were hiding and waiting to be saved. By the looks of it, that wasn't going to happen. It seemed as though the battle was being lost. Soon all of those ladies and children that she had been praying with only what seemed like moments before would be found, and Cersei's prediction of all the ladies being raped and possibly killed would come true. The city was going to fall, Sansa knew it. She could only hope that Joffrey suffered a horrible death. That was what he deserved. More than anyone, it was Joffrey who deserved to die.

Sansa shrank back against the large body that sat behind her on the horse. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She was terrified and with each moment that passed, she mentally argued with herself about whether she should tell The Hound that she had changed her mind. Even so, it was too late now. Sansa was almost certain that even if she had asked him to stop and return her to her chambers, that he wouldn't.

The horse continued to gallop quickly through the streets, Sansa couldn't help but notice that nobody they rode past paid them any attention. As they neared the gates, she squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her grip on the black mane. She was worried that maybe somebody would try to stop them from leaving. She stayed that way with her eyes closed even long after they must have left the city. The horse never slowed, and she never opened her eyes. It provided a strange and completely false sense of security. As if she were hidden from the world and all of its horrors. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. The sounds of the fighting faded and they rode for what felt like hours, neither of them speaking and Sansa was perfectly fine with that. She wouldn't know what to say anyways. Eventually she fell asleep despite her fear, leaving behind everything she knew. Although she was glad to leave most of it behind, she couldn't help but have regrets. Her last thought before losing consciousness was to wonder about what had happened to Shae. She had been Sansa's handmaiden, and her only true friend in King's Landing.

Everywhere that Sansa looked, she saw death. Men ran screaming, their entire bodies engulfed in green wild fire. Some rolled on the ground, trying and failing to extinguish the flames. Others fought, swords clashed and one by one they fell. She was surrounded by bodies, and the smell of burning flesh was enough to make her gag. She couldn't move. She tried desperately to move, wanting to run but her legs wouldn't cooperate. Sansa was rooted to the spot and with each second that passed, boding kept piling up. She blinked as she suddenly recognized her surroundings, and whenever she looked up she saw the heads on the spikes. At first they were stranger's faces. As she looked the faces began to change. They morphed into people she knew. Sansa was staring at her mother, Robb, Arya, Jon, Brann, Rickon and her father's severed heads. She screamed as she noted their lifeless expressions.

Their glassy eyes seemed to be staring at her, accusing her. This was her fault. It was all her fault. Her father's death had been her fault because she had listened to the Queen and Joffrey, foolishly thinking that they would keep their promise and be merciful. Now the rest of her family was dead as well. Suddenly she heard Joffrey's cruel laughter and turned her head to see him standing beside the wall, grinning at her. At his feet sat her Direwolf.

"Lady!" Sansa cried, wanting to go to the wolf and hug her. Wanting to take her away from this place.

"Look at them!" He commanded, pointing up towards the heads of her family and whenever she kept her eyes on him, the smile faded from his lips. "Perhaps you need another lesson." He told her. As she watched, Joffrey knelt down and pulled a dagger out, dragging it across the wolf's throat, a pitiful cry of pain coming from the animal as it died. Still Sansa was unable to move.

"Come here, little Dove." The Queen's mocking voice urged, and Sansa tore her eyes away from the wolf to see Cersei standing directly behind her. This time, she didn't want to move. She stayed where she was, but soon felt hands pulling at her, dragging her forward. Sansa was shoved onto the ground in front of the Queen, ending up on her knees and knew without looking that it had been Ser Meryn.

The entire scene shifted and she found herself in the Throne Room. Joffrey sat in his throne, the Queen at his side. Both were watching her expectantly. The Hound was no where to be seen, and she instinctively knew that this time, Lord Tyrion wouldn't be here to put a stop to this. She expected Joffrey to command Ser Meryn to beat her again, as he had before. Instead she heard the words that Joffrey had spoken at her father's execution.

"Ser Ilyn, bring me her head!" His voice rang out and she watched with horror as the Royal Executioner strode towards her with the large greatsword dragging as he walked, making a horrible screeching noise against the floor.

"No, please no!" She cried. Voices surrounded her and whenever she blinked, the Throne Room was filled with people. All of them urging Ser Ilyn on. Yelling that she was a traitor and wanting her death. Why couldn't she move? She wanted to run more than anything she had ever wanted in her life, but instead was forced to watch as the man who was going to kill her approached. Someone shoved her head down, giving a better angle for the sword to have a clean cut, and once again she knew it was Meryn. He had always enjoyed beating her whenever the king had asked him to, so it didn't surprise her that he was here for this moment. Sansa screamed as she saw him lifting the blade out of the corner of her eyes and begin the downward arc that was going to end her life. Suddenly she was trembling..no shaking. Someone was shaking her.

"Wake up, girl!" a voice said, someone shaking her shoulders once more. "Wake up!" the voice commanded, and in the next moment her eyes flew open. Instead of seeing the Throne Room with the King and Queen sitting in front of her, she could barely make out the outline of trees and a still dark sky. She wasn't in the Throne Room, none of that had been real. It had all been a dream. "You're almost fell off the horse." a voice told her, and it was then that the memories came flooding back. She wasn't even in King's Landing anymore, but instead riding on a horse with Sandor Clegane in the opposite direction.