KITH AND KIN

Chapter 1

He glanced at the bundle she held and sighed as he thought over what she'd just told him. Initially, he was aggravated by the cryptic way he'd been lured out of the keep at such a late hour. If he hadn't been shocked by the scene that awaited him in the Godswood, her story surely did it.

"But it's still yours, despite who fathered the babe. Can't you try being a mother to him? I know you care little and less of your Ladyship title, and I doubt your bastard lover would begrudge you a bastard of your own." He tried talking sense into her but when his eyes met hers, he saw her desperation.

"You don't think I tried? I just can't do it Sandor. It has nothing to do with Gendry. He'd love the child, I'm sure of it, but I … I don't. I just can't." She was adamant, then shook her head sadly as her tone softened. "I never fantasized about having children as young girls do. I never thought I'd be a mother at all, but I did try. Yet, all I see when I look at him, is his father and everything that his family did to mine."

"Gods, you should really be speaking to your sister, hell either of your brothers would be better than me." Sandor protested.

"How am I to explain that this babe was put inside me by one Jamie Lannister, known to all of Westeros as Kingsayer? The same man that pushed Bran from a tower to preserve his secret love affair between himself and his evermore evil twin sister, Cercei Lannister. The same ruthless woman that ordered Lady to be killed, and was behind countless offences against Sansa and our family, not the least of which was ordering Father's arrest."

"Arya..." He tried to shush her, calm her, for he felt the pain in her words.

"How am I to explain to my siblings that it was Cercei's face I wore when Jaime came to bed her? How can I explain that the same unholy union that created Joffrey fucking Lannister, is also responsible for creating this child? How, Sandor? Sure, I wore her face to command the death of Euron Greyjoy and send the Golden Company soldiers north, but it was my womb Jamie emptied his seed into." She angrily wiped at the stray tear that fell from her eye.

"Calm down, Arya." Sandor awkwardly hugged the little she-wolf to myself while trying to think of a solution.

"I don't believe either of them would hold the child against you. You must know that." His voice softened as he noted her eyes tear up, knowing how rare it was for her to show any vulnerabilities.

"I've already told you. I can't go to Sansa or Jon... not with this."

"Maybe your kingly brother-cousin and his new dragon wife might want to raise the child themselves. I heard she may not be able to have children." But she was shaking her head before he finished speaking.

"Taking the babe to Jon is out of the question. Gods help me, even if they don't know the child's parentage, I do and I'll not let another Lannister near the Iron Throne. Tyrion is close enough because the queen refuses to let him leave her service. That leaves only Sansa."

"You've thought this though." He observed, but was still hesitant. "I suppose an orphanage wouldn't suffice?"

"Despite his Lannister blood, he's still a Stark. Winterfell should be his home." Her words were resolute.

"I suppose." He admitted, hesitantly.

"I never understood Mother's inability to love Jon when he was just a mother-less child." She lamented with a soft shake of her head. "Sansa looks a great deal like our mother, but they are not the same. I've no doubts that Sansa will care for the child in ways that I cannot. I need you to take him to her, Sandor. All I ask is that you not tell her I birthed him." She explained and once again, he found himself hearing the truth of her words.

"I still say you should go to her yourself." He told her but she shook her head at him.

"Despite her newly hardened exterior, Sansa is still so very loving. She wouldn't understand why I can't bring myself to love or care for the child myself. Besides, I haven't found a way to make peace with myself for what I did that allowed the child to exist." The youngest she-wolf's words drifted off before she seemed to find her words again.

"I need you to do this for me, Sandor. If I must beg you, I shall. Please, Sandor. Please."

He was exasperated, but he could see her reasoning. Sandor also knew he was unlikely to change her mind when it was obvious that she'd made it up already. To see tears swimming her eyes, once again, was more than he could bare.

"Aye lass. I'll do it."

"I don't know how to thank you." Her voice seemed forced, as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"What makes you think she won't turn the child away or send him to the Wintertown orphanage?" He asked.

"Despite what I feel or don't feel for the child, even if all I see in him is his father, he still a Stark by blood." She told him, letting her eyes fall back to the bundle she held with trepidation before looking up and into his eyes. "I'm trusting you'll not let that happen. Please, protect him, Sandor."

Her words and the tone she used might have caused most grown men's knees to buckle. Sandor's knees didn't buckle as he stood tall. Although, he did feel a lump suddenly form in his throat but it wasn't out of fear. He realized that over the years, his affection for the Little Bird had only grown. The same was true for the little she-wolf. While he knew he'd finally gained Sansa's trust and that Arya had removed him from her list, it meant a great deal to him that Arya was placing her trust in him.

"You have my word, Lady Arya." He promised her, in all seriousness.

"I'm not a Lady, Ser." She responded after a moment of looking into his eyes, then smiled slightly.

"I'm no Ser, but you have my word, none the less." He reluctantly smiled back.

She stepped forward and gently placed the sleeping child in his arms. Arya finally released a deep breath, and relief seemed to float from her being. It was like a weight had been lifted from her. Sandor supposed the child in his arms had weighed far heavier on her that it's actual weight.

"Your sister might grow to love the child one day, perhaps as her own."

"That is my hope." Arya nodded at him.

"If you ever change your mind about giving him up, it will gut her to lose him." Sandor's words were spoken softly, but Arya heard the warning in them.

"I won't, Sandor. Nor would I seek to hurt Sansa in any way." At her words, he nodded.

"Will you ever tell my pretty sister the truth?" She asked after mounting her horse, ready to leave.

"I told you I'd take the child to your sister, concealing his parentage. Mayhaps one day I might, though. I don't much like lying to her." He answered honestly.

"I suppose it wouldn't be fair to ask you to lie to her forever." She nodded grimly before a wicked smile crept into her face. "But I was referring to the fact that you're in love with her."

His jaw tightened and his lips pressed together for a moment, preventing himself from cursing her to all hells. Then, he simply shook his head. Arya took a moment of pity for the man before her.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, or her for that matter. None of us are the same anymore, Sandor, not even you." She told him and he knew she was right on that, but she wasn't done.

"I look forward to the day I may call you my Good Brother. Gods know she's given me far worse ones before." She told him before having her horse gallop away, leaving him in a stunned silence until the babe started to cry.

"Buggering hells!" He growled as he used his cloak to shield the crying babe from the night's chill while walking as fast as he could towards the keep.

A/N: This story is inspired by a dream about someone bringing me a nephew to raise. I thought it would make an interesting GOT story, so here you go. It's a 3 part short, but could develop into more. I hope you enjoy it.