The following morning found him in a better constitution then he had been in for weeks. A warm bed to sleep in and the simple, yet satisfying meal of meat and broth had done wonders for not only himself, but a majority of the Brothers. Two were still weak, coughing and feverish, but the Maseter of Winterfell predicted a full recovery within a week. The ill ones were to rest for the time being before attempting any household chores.
The rest of them took a morning meal inside the dining hall of the main house. The gruel was plain and the rolls dry but they were hot and that was all that really mattered. Hells, there was butter and pressed apple cider on the table! It was a King's feast compared to raw horseflesh and frozen vegetation. They all ate enough to satisfy and no more. There was no point in wasting food on gorging. Rationing was a skill they had learned early on.
The Lady of the house was not to be seen. He searched for her but never saw her. He tried not to let it disappoint him. She owed him nothing. But it would still be nice to catch a glimpse of her. She didn't have to speak to him. He only wanted to look at her again. She had been so radiant on that throne of ivory. He remembered a shy, simpering child stumbling her way into adulthood. Now there was a forceful, curved woman in that little girl's place. He had dreamt about her in the night and had prayed in the morning, without much feeling, to be rid of his lustful thoughts.
After the morning meal, the large guard came for the Elder Brother, Linton and himself. The surly guardsman reminded Sandor of a wild boar. He was stocky in the shoulders and his teeth were cooked and chipped. A boar probably smelled better though. Where ever Sansa had found that one, it was sure to be an unforgiving place.
The husky man led them to a small room this time. Sansa was already seated at the head of a table with six chairs. A tall, blonde woman clad in armor stood by her right side. The woman was nearly as tall as he! Brienne of Tarth, he guessed. He was proven correct when Sansa bid them to take a seat and introduced the woman as such. Brienne was her sworn shield it was explained them. Without Brienne she would not be alive to offer them shelter now. They would treat the armored woman with respect or be tossed out of the gates without question.
Terms were discussed next. They would be provided for, all of them, as long as they would earn their keep. There was a house guard led by Bullis and a small army led by Captain Holloway, who was out scouting to the east. The lands of Winterfell had good trading relations with neighboring towns. Everyone was warm, decently fed and relatively safe. It was one of the best places anyone could be in the North.
There was a main house, kitchens, a laundry house, the Maester's long building, several live stock pens, stables, a wine cellar, servant quarters, and buried gardens. The Maester had learned in his time that if the earth was dug up it would insulate some plants and coax life from seeds. There were many places where new hands could be made busy. Several hours were spent deciding who would be best suited to what task. When it came time to place him self, Sansa was the first to speak.
"Bullis and Brienne are the closest I have to a council now a days," she began, "I believe Bullis could use help in keeping track of the house guard. Too many of the boys are unskilled and he cannot train them all and advise me. He is the one in charge but you will be second in command of the house guard if you wish it."
"Can you move with the leg?" Bullis cut in. The black clothed man had noticed his slight limp. Six years and it still bothered him, though it was far better now then it had been back then.
"Aye," he nodded, "Not too fast. Never was swift though."
"Clegane's use is not in his quickness. It's the force behind his sword that makes men tremble," Sansa added. Was she defending or mocking him? Bullis grunted in answer and Sandor was reminded of himself several years ago. Sansa focused back on him.
"Do you accept?" she asked.
He hesitated. It was a fair offer. She knew nothing of him after they had parted the night of the battle of the Blackwater. She didn't know about his near death, or the physical and mental healing that had happened after. His struggle was not known to her. She would assume he would snarl and fight like the dog he had been. The Elder Brother had taken him under his wing and Sandor had changed from beast to man. Near a man at least. As close as his sorry self was ever going to get. He had fought on the Quiet Isle in defense of those who were truly good but did he want to continue at it? There was no one more worthy of his protection than the Little Bird but it was a dangerous path she was asking him to walk down.
"Is there time to think on it?" was the only answer he could give her.
Her fingers rapped on the table. She was debating with herself. The Queen of the North wasn't used to people not jumping to obey her commands. Her tone grew haughty.
"You have one day to decide. I expect an answer tomorrow morning." She rose from her chair and so did all the men. Brienne had stood at her side the entire time.
"You are all dismissed. Brother, please let your people know what is expected of them. The mid day meal will be in another few hours. The evening meal is at seven. The gate remains shut at all times unless I order it open. Do not ask me to open it. You" – she pointed straight at him – "Will remain here."
He was shamed to feel himself gulp under her glare. She was angry with him then. He had hoped time would help her perhaps not forgive, but at least forget, his past transgressions. She still was a beauty to rival the sun but inside she had changed. Where his edges had been blunted and dulled, hers had been honed and sharpened. Once the others had filed out of the room, she motioned for Brienne to join them. The woman tired to argue and Sansa firmly held her ground.
"He won't hurt me," Sansa reassured her. That statement stung worse than the one yesterday. He had hurt her. Many times. Why the sudden faith that he wouldn't do so now?
Brienne left the room, her eyes glowing with suspicion. Sansa once again sat and bid him to do the same. His heart pounded in his chest. He'd dreamed of this hadn't he? For years he had wanted the chance to see her, sit by her side and explain himself but now he had no words. His throat was sawdust dry, his hands clenched in his lap. Whatever she did now he would take it. He should be barreled, nailed and drug through the streets for what he had done to her. He stared at the fists in his lap. There was silence for a long time. And then he heard a quiet sniff. He looked up to find tears in her eyes.
"I thought you were dead. Brienne said so. Your Elder Brother told her!" she said. Her voice was calm and clear despite the water in her eyes.
"I'm not," he shrugged.
She let out a wet bark of a laugh, "Yes, I can see that."
Her eyes grew serious. "I mourned you," she told him and he felt his own eyes burn. He didn't deserve that. Not at all. Receiving her grief was certain to have earned him a chance to rot in all the Seven Hells.
"That's not right," he grumbled, clearing his throat. "You shouldn't have spent tears on me. I'm sorry for it. The number of sins I've committed against you are too many to count. I am sorry for them."
He looked her in her eyes and she only shook her head slowly.
"You and I do not recall events the same way. I can think of no actions you have committed that need my forgiveness. You may ask your Lord for it if you like but don't ask it of me. I can not forgive a sin that has not occurred."
"Not even . . . " he trailed off. He couldn't even say the words. They were vile. They were the worst of him self and she knew what he spoke of.
"Not even that," she answered him. There was a sad, stern smile on her face. He held his breath and bit at the inside of his cheek. She wasn't angry. It was a miracle. He fought the urge to sink to her feet and kiss the hem of her dress. She sighed and shivered in her seat before, rising out of her chair.
"I need air," she explained. "Take your day to think. I will speak with you later. There are things we need to discuss."
He stayed at the table until her heard her footsteps falling far down the hallway. Only after he heard them fade to nothing did he rise and make his way to the door. He felt the need for fresh air as well but went out the kitchen doors in order to avoid her and give her the space she needed. Just because she wasn't furious with him didn't mean she wished him to remain in her presence. The back door led to a muddy yard full of frozen slush. The sky was a crisp, clear blue though. Perhaps the snow would hold off for a few days.
The little yard was bustling with activity now that it was near noon. Wagons were being unloaded and men carried bushel baskets loaded with grain and root vegetables. Horses stomped impatiently while their wares were being unpacked. There was a goose girl herding her squawking charges through the muck. He heard giggling behind him and a half a dozen young children flew from behind him to run across the yard. They nearly knocked him over in their haste. The geese hissed at the little ones and they laughed, putting their thumbs in their ears and sticking out their tongues in response. It was pleasant to see new life thriving. There had only been a few children in passing on the Quiet Isle the first few years he had been there. Then less, until there were none at all in the final two years before it all burnt.
He saw two Brothers helping to unload a wagon so he stepped in to help as well. He needed to move for the time being. His conversation with Sansa, brief as it was, had left him restless and action was still the most efficient cure for him. He was better at sitting and waiting for answers now, but sometimes he still needed to release his pent up energy. He had no idea how some of the Brothers could sit for hours on end. Ten or twenty minutes was his limit for quiet contemplation.
The men were glad to have his help. He could carry twice as much as any of them even with the bad leg. It was the beginning of the month and extra supplies were coming in to last for the next few weeks. There were crates filled with honey and jams. Casks of wine were rolled out. The carcasses of goats and lambs were brought in as well. His mouth watered and he smirked. It seems they had timed their arrival well. Once the work was finished and he was sweating, he made his way back to his chambers. He stopped at the threshold though and instead of entering, knocked on the Elder Brother's door.
The Brother let him in, smiling and offered him a seat. Sandor picked at a hangnail for a minute. The Elder Brother simply waited and busied himself with some papers in front in him on a small table. The room was much like his own. A narrow bed, a wooden chest, a hearth, a small table and two chairs. A few candle holders were stuck into the walls and that was all to the room. It wasn't much but it was luxury compared to the open road.
"Do I take her offer?" he asked the Elder Brother.
"You know that is not a question I can answer," the man told him still keeping his attention to the letters in front of him.
"Should I take her offer?" he corrected himself. The Elder Brother set his papers aside and sighed.
"You are the best judge of your own limits. If you feel you can step back into the role of soldier without losing the man you've become than by all means take her offer. If not, refuse and see what else she may have for you. I doubt she'll throw you out. You two have history, yes?" The wise man had proved to be clever once again.
Sandor nodded. He had spoken many times of his time in King's Landing, but never of his Little Bird. That was not something to be shared. He would be damned for some of his actions towards her, but other times he had been as gentle as he could be. She was the only bit of grace he had managed in his life before the Quiet Isle. He didn't want anyone to have those memories.
"She was King Joffrey's betrothed for a time. She was not treated well. I didn't treat her kindly though I tried," he muttered. That was all he willing to say.
"Take the time to think and make your own decisions. You are in control of your own life. You have been for quite some time. She can not make you do that which you do not wish to." the Brother told him.
He almost laughed out loud at that. If only the man knew, he thought. He'd bugger himself with his long sword if she asked it of him. But there was truth behind the Brothere's words. He had taken hold of his destiny years ago and if he went where the Little Bird led him it was his fault entirely for letting it happen. He would need more time to think.