I AM SO, SO, SO, SO, SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPLOAD! It's way overdue and I feel horrible about it, new uploads will come much sooner, I promise! Please enjoy!

Sandor brought Sansa to the Inn's muddy grounds, where they were warmly greeted by Neeson and Hal

"It's 2 days ride to Duskendale Port on a trot," Hal stated, "Not a problem, is it?"

"No." Sandor answered bluntly, Hal clapped his hands and exclaimed gratefully, "Excellent, shall we?"

The brothers lead their company out to the horses as Neeson began promptly to Sansa's side, "You ever been on a ship before?"

Sandor took notice towards Neeson's wandering gaze, Sansa answered politely, "No, i've just been on horseback."

"Well it's a bit like a horse, you know, you're rocking back most of the time. But mostly you just get to walk around a bit and relax."

When Sandor brought Sansa to the horse, he lifted her into the saddle so both of her legs swung to one side of the horse. Before he lifted himself, Sandor wasted no time in showing Neeson a glare that could only be described with the words, 'Don't fuck with me.' Making Neeson quiver in his tiny red ringlets.

After amusing himself, Sandor lifted himself on the leather saddle and boosted Sansa on his lap. "Hold onto me, little bird." Sansa threw her arm around his back and the other across his chest, he clutched onto her through the reins and turned the horse to face the group.

After an hour of riding, the group finally slowed themselves down to a gentle walk through a thick forest. Neeson cried from the back of the herd, "How much longer? I've got to take a wicked piss..."

"Not much further, Neeson," Hal retorted, "You can hold it a bit longer." It was clear to Sansa that Hal was older than Neeson, he was much more mature and handsome than Neeson, and he seems to put up a lot from him.

Sandor touched her hand and asked in a whisper, "You doing all right?"

She sighed and responded wearily, "Yes, I'm all right..."

"Good girl. Won't be much longer, I imagine. We'll have to take a break sooner or later."

Sansa took a glance back to the ginger behind her horse, then returning her gaze back to Sandor, "Can we trust them?" Raising his eyebrow, he peered back up to Neeson's horse. Sandor brought his thick arm across Sansa's chest and gently clutched her shoulder, pulling her ever so closer to him. "Don't be afraid, I told you I'd keep you safe, and that's what I'm going to do. But I don't think these lads are a real threat."

"How do you know that?" Sansa asked with the lightest amount of attitude, Sandor answered her hastily, "For starters, the ginger's a chicken shit. Wouldn't last a minute in a swordfight, especially when both of them don't have swords. They're all getting out of the south, they're sick of the Lannister's shit, too. They lived in King's Landing, they escaped when the war broke out, they don't care who we are."

Sandor certainly wasn't stupid, if anything he had more brains than Sansa imagined, nothing seems to slip past him. When the leader of the group stopped his horse, they arrived themselves at a small inlet connected to a little stream.

This... brings back bad memories... Sansa grimly thought, remembering her horrific hunting morning with Joffrey.

What are you doing?

Getting rid of the enemy!

Your grace, I beg of you, please don't!

Snapping out of her gloomy trance, Sansa found herself being lifted out of Sandor's lap and then suddenly pulled gently out of her saddle and into the damp mud on the ground.

When the sun went down, the two brothers huddled by a fire while Sandor kept his distance with Sansa. The crackling of the fire reminded Sansa of how quiet Sandor has been all day, scooting closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder, she asked generously, "Are you all right?"

Sandor answered her in a grunt, "Yeah." Swinging her arms across him, he followed her lead and curved his arm easily around her. "Are you tired?" She asked again.

"I'm fine." He grumbled in response, feeling Neeson's unpleasant stare upon him.

"So, Sandor," Neeson spoke, his mouth full of a piece of bread, he walked closer to him and projected, "I've heard tales of the terrible Hound, what happened to your face?"

Neeson was immature for his age, that much Sandor could tell about him, still he lied in response, "Accidently set my bedding on fire when I was a boy."

Neeson lifted his brows in surprise, "Thought you might've burned it in combat from the looks of you... Reminds me of when Hal threw my teddy bear in the fire pit because I called him a greasy snatch."

Sandor scanned around the group, his eyes met with Neeson's, who was finishing off a piece of bread before he smiled through his crumby teeth. Leaving a grunt of disgust, he turned away from the ginger and stood from his seat, pulling Sansa up from the ground and onto her feet.

"You off to sleep now?" Neeson asked, mouth full of dry bread, "Well, night." Sandor pulled Sansa away from the group before Neeson could say, "Not much of a talker is he?"

Earlier in the day, Sandor made up a small spot next underneath a tree for him and Sansa. He rested himself against the tree and pulled Sansa into his lap, surprising Sansa and making her giggle on his legs. "You're in a good mood," Sansa chirped.

Before Sansa could answer him, Sandor already enclosed her lips as he planted a soft kiss on her mouth. Gladly returning the favor, Sansa folded her hands against the back of his neck and enjoyed the sweetened nectar of his saliva against his tongue.

Sandor pushed his lips against hers softly and released all his tension into their passionate kiss, then suddenly stopping as he remembered a pair of eyes would be watching his every move. Sansa questioned his still lips, "What's wrong?"

"Not here..." He said silently.

Pushing the auburn hair out of her face, Sansa caressed Sandor's scruffy beard with her fingers. "Do you think this is a bit strange? Running off together through the woods and going off on a ship with a group of strangers? It sounds like a romance book I'd be reading if I was..."

She paused, almost frozen in her abhorrent thoughts, "If I was back in the castle." Looking to her face, Sandor shook his head and began softly, "You're never going back there, I promise you that."

Again, she rested silently, but after a moment of thought, she began hastily, "What happened the night we left? To your brother?"

"You don't need to know about that."

"But I want to." Sansa's words were firm like stone, it was clear enough to Sandor he wasn't getting out of this one.

"When Gregor attacked you, I killed him," His words sounded bloodthirsty and sinister, "But when I finished with him, you were still out cold. I didn't know what happened to you, but you weren't raped, just beaten up a bit."

Hearing Sandor's insights calmed her slightly, "But I promise you, Sansa," His fingers practically covered her little face as he stared intensely into her blue, worried eyes, "I will do everything in my power to never let that happen to you again."

A light smile blushed across her lips again as she nodded her head, feeling over emotional from Sandor's infrequent, touching words.

Sandor woke first, again.

His eyes met Sansa's closed lids and her thin eyebrows, she breathed lightly as she kept sleeping under the dimly lit trees. He lifted himself to his knees and glanced about, Sandor could see Hal walking towards the horses, leaving Neeson to sleep.

Taking his first step towards the horses, he silently evaded waking Sansa from her sleep. Hal turned to him and greeted Sandor through his bearded smile, "Morning."

Sandor mumbled in return, stepping closer to him, "When are we heading out?"

"If we don't make and frequent stops, we should arrive in Rosby by sundown."

Sandor moved his gaze back to Sansa, sleeping underneath her black cloak with her orange hair splayed out in all directions like a fire. Hal began tenderly, "Wanted to apologize for Neeson's behavior last night, he's not exactly a people person. He's just a bit younger than me, but I'm all he's got so I have to look after him..." He dozed off for a moment as he glanced back over to his group, "We've been through a lot in the past but we somehow make it though..."

Hal elbowed him and implied Sansa with his light touch, "She seems like a nice lass." Sandor glanced in his direction and watched the redhead turn over and slowly rise to a sitting position on the ground, "Better go fetch her then." Hal spoke again.

Without a word to say, Sandor walked briskly back to his small camp spot and caught Sansa's attention. "Morning," She spoke generously, watching him kneel beside her and greet warmly, "Morning."

Her hair was unkempt from her slumber, but Sandor paid no attention at all when he welcomingly kissed her scalp. "Are we leaving?" She asked, Sandor spoke in return, "Aye, come on up now."

Sansa lifted herself off the ground and walked back to Hal, who was already unpacking another bag of food. "Here," he handed a loaf of bread and a pair of apples towards them, Sansa took the loaf of white bread and Sandor the two apples, "Break your fast."

Sandor took Sansa back to the fire pit and watched as Hal woke his brother with a light punt in his side, "Get up, we've got a long way ahead of us."