Sansa went through her day in a daze as she eagerly awaited dusk to come. She felt a fluttering in her belly at the thought of seeing Sandor Clegane and she blushed.
I should not spend my days thinking about him, she scolded herself. What would he septa say if she Sansa was thinking about a rough, vicious man like the Hound? Well, he's never rough with me. He always treated her gently, in his own way. She wondered if he would kiss her gently, too.
"Lady Sansa, you are red." Shae said, touching her cheeks and forehead. "Are you unwell?"
Sansa quickly brushed aside her thoughts of the Hound and fanned at her face. "I'm fine, Shae, it's just a bit warm out."
At least it wasn't a complete lie. Sansa longed to rid herself of the thick northern dresses she came to King's Landing with and trade them for a dress like Shae's. Or better yet, just trade places with her. Sometimes, Sansa wished she was never a highborn lady, but the handmaiden of one. They got to enjoy most of the same thing but without bearing the same responsibility. Handmaidens only had to worry about getting their lady's chamber clean or their bath water warm enough. And they got to do all of these things in light, airy dresses and comfortable slippers. Sansa wanted to wear the same things, but she had to worry about her appearance being good enough of for her King. Being comfortable was at the end of the list.
Handmaidens were even shown respect, to a degree. Shae even wore jewelry. Not very fancy jewelry, mind, but it was still pretty. She also ate better than the peasants. It was almost like being highborn, but not quite.
Sometimes, Sansa envied Shae.
"Perhaps we can walk through the gardens, m'lady." Shae suggested. "We can sit by the water. The ocean breeze will refresh you."
Sansa nodded, grateful for the brief distraction, and went off with her.
Later, while she sat in the Godswood with Sandor, Sansa told him her secret thoughts of envy towards her handmaiden. Sandor listened patiently, occasionally nodding and taking swigs of wine.
He was quieter than usual, Sansa noticed. He looked at her more, he seemed to be studying, and he didn't try to hide the burned side of his face. When she would catch him staring, he would turn quickly and cough or pick at the grass.
Sandor offered her lemoncakes when she was done speaking. "I never thought I'd hear the little bird say such things. I always thought you were the perfect little lady, inside and out."
"I try to be, but its hard sometimes." she admitted. "I wish I could be free."
"I suppose it isn't so hard to believe that your time here has taken the lady out of Sansa Cle- *COUGH*- ah... Stark." Sandor said. He looked away from her and cleared his throat.
Sansa nibbled at her cakes and then said, "Have you ever wanted to leave here? Do you want to be free?"
"I'd like nothing more than to leave this place. It smells like shit. It's smells like shit people. It's shitty in general." Sandor said. "But I don't suppose that you come to the Godswood to plan a foolproof escape, do you?"
Sansa tensed. How did he know about Ser Dontos?
She eased away from him, started to stand, all while stammering out that she would never, ever betray her King, her one true love. She found it very hard to breathe. Sandor stood with her and reached his arm out.
"I would never betray King Joffrey! I am only a stupid girl, I have traitor's blood but I—I love—Please don't hurt me—"
Sansa stumbled over a root and started to fall. Sandor caught her and held her close to him.
"You're all right, little, bird, you're all right." He murmured, patting her hair. She started sobbing, begging him not to tell Joffrey. "No one will hurt you, I won't say a word. It was only a jest, Sansa. I meant nothing by it. I don't blame you for wanting to leave."
Sansa was shaking. "Please, please, don't let him hurt me anymore. He'll kill me."
Sansa hugged him as tightly as she could as he rocked her back and forth.
"He won't hurt you, Sansa. I'll take you far away from here, if that's what you want." Sandor promised. "I could keep you safe. They're all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them."
He pulled back to look at her. He wiped her tears with the sleeve of his tunic. "I'll keep you safe, Sansa. But only if you let me."
Sansa cupped the burn side of his face with her delicate hand. She looked him in the eye, unafraid.
"I'll go with you."
