Chapter 2: The bird and the hound
Sansa
This is really happening…. Sansa could scarcely believe it as she grabbed some clothing out her dresser and stepped behind the changing screen. She could hear The Hound cursing as the sound of footsteps echoed past the hall. He had told her to change into her riding gear, or else the saddle would rub her raw. She remembered Arya and smiled as she left the gown part of her riding attire behind and started at the complicated system of laces on her bodice.
"Gods…" She whispered to herself as a now familiar pain rocked through her stomach. She was still flowering, and she feared that the pains of it would cripple her, but still she had told her to be fast but her shaking fingers fumbled with the gown that normally took herself and her hand maids to adorn. She peeked out from around her changing screen, and saw him pacing, keeping his back to her, his hand anxious on his sword.
This will take to long…. She resigned and swallowed.
"May I borrow your dagger?" She asked, and he turned his head in surprise.
"Why?" The word was short and rasped. It was amazing how fast he seemed to have sobered up.
"I can't get these laces. It will be faster to cut it." She said. He looked at her for a moment, the darkness of the room obscuring most of his expression, but he nodded and pulled the dagger out of its sheath, tossing it around and handing the hilt toward her. She reached to grab it when another pain stabbed her insides. She suppressed the urge to mutter a very un-ladylike curse.
"Your injured?" He asked. She looked up at him and saw the concern in his eyes.
"No." She forced herself to straighten again. "It's...my flowering."
He nodded and jumped, as a loud thumping was heard on the door. Someone was trying to break in.
"Bugger it all…" He hissed and turned towards her, his large frame forcing her to step back. "Turn around, I'll cut the back of it, then hurry. That door wont last long."
She nodded and turned her back to him, lifting her hair up out of the way. She stiffened as his fist grabbed the collar of her gown roughly, and the cold steel of his blade barely grazed the back of her neck. At the harsh ripping sound and the sudden slack in her gown she bit her lip and decided decency was the least important thing right now, and simply let it drop. His hand left her and his footsteps retreated, towards the door. She heard a sword be drawn as the pounding got louder, and the door shook on its lock.
Sansa managed to pull her riding trousers up her body and fasten their laces quickly, glad for the corset that ensured they fit. She then pulled a chemise down over her and grabbed a dark colored cloak off of his perch. She was hardly dressed as a Lady, but that didn't matter right now. She kicked off her shoes and reached for her riding boots when the door burst in. She let out a small scream and ducked down instinctively as she heard the sound of a scuffle on the other side of her changing screen.
There was the dull scraping of swords against each other, and the grunting of men, before two loud, wet sounding thuds hit the ground. She peaked out again and saw the hound standing over two bodies, both dressed in the gold cloaks of the city guards. One's head had fallen on top of her bed, and the other had been nearly cleaved in two.
Sandor Clegane was breathing heavily, wiping blood away from his mouth as he pushed the door closed again and leaned against it, the lock ruined. He caught her eye.
"If your ready then hurry the fuck up." He growled and she swallowed, her fear of him returning.
"Just my I'm done." She said and he nodded, breathing hard. She turned and slipped the boots on, hastily tieing them, and not properly. She stood and swung the cloak over her shoulders and nodded. "Okay…"
He nodded back and opened the door, peeking out into the hall as Sansa carefully stepped over the two bodies in her way, trying not to look at the damage that had been done, and so fast.
"It's clear. Lets go." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out the door, his sword still drawn in his other hand, as he dragged her down the hallway. He moved quickly, shockingly so for a man of his size and in armor. However it was impossible for them to be quiet, with the clanking of metal and the creaking of leather.
The Hound set a hard pace, while he was barely jogging, she had to sprint to keep up with his much longer strides. His white cloak billowed in front of her, sometimes brushing against her legs, a rough blanket of snow, stained with ash and blood.
They made their way down the tower stairs and across the drawbridge, in to the main hall of the Red Keep. She shuddered, seeing the hall so dark and quiet, the iron throne looking menacing in the dark of night. They stopped for a moment as Clegane looked around, as if trying to get his bearings. Sansa fumbled with the edge of her cloak as she waited, wishing she had something to hold, to keep her hands busy.
"Fucking, Shit…" He spat, almost to himself. He looked panicked, his eyes wide and watering from the smoke in the air, half of his face coated in thick, dried blood, making his burns look much more fresh than they really were. She saw more dark stains on his armor, and she noted that he was limping a little.
He's hurt. Badly. She thought as he wiped his hand over his face. And he has nothing with him. Gods…
"Do you know where the vault is from here?" She asked, drawing his attention.
"Yeah I know, but we aren't trying to get to the vault, we need to get to my fucking horse! Just gotta figure out how to get there with running in to the least amount of people."
"Do you have any money on you?" She asked, stepping forward. "Or any supplies? We'll need it or we'll starve."
He looked at her and clenched his jaw, his eyes darting away. A pang of pride filled her belly as she noted the acknowledgement he showed.
"Fuck it. It's not guarded. And we can get to the stables from there." He huffed and reached out to grab her again. This time she reached to him and took his hand, rather than letting him pull her by the wrist. And they moved.
The way to the vault was even darker, as it went under the ground, and had no windows for the fire to shine in. On the way, Clegane had to stop to grab and light a torch off of the wall, or risk them both plummeting down a flight of stairs. The halls were damp down here, and rumbled slightly as the battle waged above them.
"There might still be guards." He muttered. "Stay behind me, and keep your ears open and your mouth shut."
She nodded as they reached a landing and their pace slowed. He let go of her hand to draw his sword, moving slowly, and shockingly quiet, despite the thunderous noise he had been making earlier. She reached out and clenched her fist in to his white cloak, the rough wool rubbing against her soft fingers. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow before nodding and continuing towards the vault.
They crept silently, turning this corner and that before noting a light at the end of one hall, and shadows moving in it. He turned and handed the torch to her and moving her up against a wall.
"Stay here, little bird, and don't peep." His voice was as soft as a breeze against her ear, and she nodded, watching and shaking as he went towards the light.
"Who's there?!" A voice called, it sounded familiar.
"Who the fuck do you think?" The Hound snarled back. "What the fuck do you think your doing? Taking a little extra pay from the king?"
"What about you, Dog?" Another voice said, sounding shaky. "Aren't you supposed to be outside? Or did you tuck tail?"
"Wanna say that again, Boron? Not in the mood for your pissy jests." His voice sounded dangerous.
"Your barely standing dog, what makes you think we won't whip you?" The first voice said, and she heard the drawing of steel. That was enough, apparently, as the sounds of a fight broke out. Clanging and grunting, before a wet crunching sound and a curse filled the hall. Then footsteps, running directly toward her.
She froze as the man rounded the corner, one of the Kingsguard, his white cloak pristine but a large gash on his face. She recognized him, though they rarely interacted. He had struck her once, on Joffrey's demand. And he had not held back.
He froze when he saw her, his eyes looking at her face with recognition.
"Your-" He started, but never got to finish as a hand grabbed his mouth and a dagger drew across his throat.
He fell, nearly grabbing her leg as the blood spurted forward, as another hand took her hand and lead her away. She held the torch carefully as he drew her with him to the vault, were two other men lay slain. He picked up one of their bags and held it out to her, she took it, her hand dropping slightly at the weight.
"They…" She breathed out as The Hound lifted two other bags on to his shoulders.
"They packed it up for us." He grunted, as he held his side, blood staining his fingers. "Now we got the money, we gotta get out. As soon as they find you missing, the entire city will on our arses."
She nodded and shouldered the heavy bag, keeping hold of the torch as he turned right down another hall and up a steep flight of stairs.
She could hardly keep track of the twists and turns the two of them made though the bowels of the castle. His pace had slowed, his wounds were bleeding now, from the two fights he had already encountered. Sansa wandered if he would survive this, if it was all for naught, when they came to another flight of stairs, long, straight and steep, leading up to a heavy looking wooden door. They made their way up them, Clegane having to lean against the wall to make it up, his breathing rough, sweat pouring down his face. At the door, he pushed, but it didn't move. He pushed again, and nothing.
"Son of a whore…" He cursed and laid his two bags down on the stair near Sansa's feet, held on to the wall for support, and kicked the door once, twice, on the third time it slammed open, the bolt on the outside shattering from the impact. He fell forward, nearly on to his face, but Sansa reached out and grabbed a hold of his arm, using her whole body weight to pull him towards her. Clumsily, he leaned against the wall behind her and took a moment to breathe, ignoring the fact that he was hovering over her. After getting his breath he nodded and picked the bags back up, and looked around were they were.
They were on the edge of the sea, Sansa could see fires burning to their left, and darkness to their right. They were outside of the Red Keep. The sound of hooves caused Sansa to whip her head around, her red hair falling in to her face as the saw a lone horse on the stairs that led back up in to the city. It was large and black, and looked very familiar to her.
"Good boy, Stranger." The Hound laughed as he made his way to the horse, that threw his head in what seemed like pride and joy at seeing his master. He grabbed the horses reins and loaded the two bags on to his back, as Sansa approached, holding out her back for him to fasten it as well.
"Someone must have tried to steal him, got him all saddled and everything." He droned as he got things set. "Good for us too. Now pull up that hood and hide your hair, it's too easily recognisable as Tully, here in the city." She did as she was told, pulling her hair back and hiding it under the hood of her cloak. He turned and put his hands on her waist, lifting her up on to the horse as if she weighed nothing. She slung her leg over Strangers saddle and leaned her hands back on his rump as The Hound mounted in front of her, taking the reins. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding tightly onto the leather straps that kept his sword on his body, as he turned the horse and started through the city.
They ran at nearly a full gallop, moving quickly through the dark, abandoned streets. No one was out, neither pessant or guard, all had locked themselves inside their homes, probably praying for the fighting to end. Strangers hooves echoed in the empty streets as they made their way toward the Iron Gate, were two guards stood. When they saw the horse approach, they grabbed their two spears and held them at the ready. The Hound reined up, and Stranger halted, Sansa buried her face in his back, hoping to hide from the guards.
"Halt! No one is to leave the city, on the Queens orders!" The man said. Sandor placed a hand on his pommel and snarled at them.
"You plan to stop me?" He growled. Sansa saw the guards take a step back. "I'll give you ten seconds to open that gate, or your skulls will be my new drinking cups."
It took them only a second to start unlatching the gate. They opened it and scurried out of the way as Stranger barreled through them, and out into the dark night.
They rode on in silence for some time, the fire that lit up the sky growing dimmer and dimmer as they rode farther away from civilization. Stranger moved quickly, huffing as he galloped at an alarming pace, The Hound clenching tightly to the reins with one hand, and Sansa grasping on to his waist. She felt hot, sticky blood on her arm and swallowed before calling out, raising to be heard over the sound of the wind blowing past them, small droplets of rain starting to fall on her shoulders.
"Your hurt…" She said and he snorted.
"Yes, but what of it?" He scoffed back. "Been hurt before, and worse than this. I'll deal with it when we stop."
She clutched him in her arms and nodded against his back.
"Thank you." She felt a sob rise in her throat, but she suppressed it. She wouldn't start crying into his cloak, not right now, while they were still in danger.
"Don't thank me yet, little bird." He said, his voice more gentle than it had been before. "Wait until we survive a week. Then you can say I saved you."
She nodded and closed her eyes against the pain she was in. Her stomach was aching again, and a deep pressure made her back feel like it was being crushed. The rough saddle and the heavy bouncing that came from being on a galloping horse made her thighs feel bruised, and her womanhood throb as she bled. But she refused to complain. This was a part of being a woman, and he was hurt. There was a large difference between the two.
Sansa did not know how long they rode, but after some time Stranger did have to slow to a trott and then a walk, snorting and panting heavily from the exertion of carrying both his heavy master and another while running so fast. Before long they were walking down the kings road, and rain pelted them hard from above. The Hound had to pull his cloak around himself to stay warm as they looked ahead, seeing nothing but the dark road, as the moon was hidden behind cloud and ash.