They were brought into the High Hall and marched down the long room to stand in front of the weirwood throne. Petyr Baelish lounged in the ancient seat of the Arryns, a mocking half-smile on his face and at his side…
Arya's eyes widened at the sight of the tall redhead standing next to the throne. "Sansa!"
She ran forward as her sister hurried down the steps and then they were locked in each other's arms, tears streaming down both their faces. "I thought you were dead," Sansa said brokenly.
"And I heard that you were a prisoner in King's Landing." Arya pulled back from her sister and scanned her face. "There was a story that you married the Imp."
Sansa nodded miserably. "I had to-they gave me no choice, but Lord Baelish helped me to escape after Joffrey died." She shuddered at the memory. "He drank poison at his wedding feast and the queen accused me and Tyrion...they were going to execute me…" She clutched Arya again, sobbing on her sister's shoulder.
Baelish smiled broadly at the Hound. "You have done well to bring about such a tender reunion."
Sandor's jaw tightened and he maintained a surly silence, but Arya heard Baelish' remark and remembering the price on her companion's head, she said coldly, "The Hound brought me here in safety. What are you going to do to him?"
For the first time Sansa noticed the scarred man standing before the throne and she blinked in confusion as his dark eyes bored into her. Then he turned his attention back to Baelish, who was giving Arya a look of wide-eyed innocence. "I'm not going to do anything to him, child," the Lord Protector of the Vale said reassuringly. "I want only to reward him handsomely and send him on his way. Does that meet with your approval?"
"He needs a healer first," said Arya. The Hound glared at her and she glared back. "He has an infected wound on his neck."
"I don't need a healer," said the big man gruffly.
Sansa approached Sandor, twisting her hands. "Ser…"
"I'm not a knight," he snapped.
"I had forgotten," said the girl softly. "Forgive me...I only wanted to tell you we have good healers here. Please let them look at you."
The Hound cursed to himself. He had meant to ransom the little wolf to her kin and leave her in what safety the Eyrie could provide, and he was sure his life was not worth a grain of salt with Baelish in command, but there was the rub. Baelish ruled here, Lady Arryn was dead, and now there was not only the little wolf but the little bird to think of. He couldn't go now and leave them to the mercy of this whoremaster who had betrayed their father, no matter what happened to him. He sighed heavily. "Aye, I'll see your healer." He saw Arya smirk and he said fiercely, "But no fire!"