Chapter Three

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Sandor could see the bruises starting to form on her arms a few hours later. He assumed that she would have more scattered throughout her body as well. The right side of her face was swollen and bruised but the left was nearly untouched. How fucking ironic. Now we can match. Each time Sandor had looked at the mother and son riding his horse, the boy had been staring back at him, directly at his scarred face.

"Like what you see, boy?"Roanya's armed tightened around the child, afraid that her son had upset the man. She knew that her son must have staring at the man, since she had encouraged him using his eyes since he could understand her. Sher had been her sight for the last year. She told the boy to run his eyes slowly over every surface and not to miss any detail. She taught him the way to describe things so that she would understand. She hated herself for using her son but she didn't know any other way to protect him. Roanya didn't know who her son's father was, which was one of the downfalls of bedding more men than one could keep track of. She discovered she was with child shortly after she had moved in with Matthar and he had tried everything to make her lose the child. But her little one was a fighter, just like its mother, and had come into the world.

"Yes, I like it. It's different." Sandor abruptly stopped, causing Stranger to stop as well. Roanya did not like where this was going. He'll just leave us here. Why did I let him take us? Oh, Gods. The Hound turned towards the boy and saw the way Roanya gripped her son. He knew she was frightened of him, that didn't bother him, but the reasons why she was frightened did. She can't see me with her eyes but she is still frightened. Fuck. Is that why Little Bird didn't come with me? It wasn't my scars that scared her, it was the man who wore them. She heard Roanya whisper in Sher's ear but did not make out the words spoken. Sandor did hear the boy's response. "It's like your arm, Mama. This one." He touched the burned scar on her arm and she gasped in realization.

"Ser, please, he didn't mean to offend. He doesn't understand." He looked from the boy to Roanya, the ugly bruises causing him to look away. He knew that she wouldn't see his cowardice to look upon her face. He had seen too many bruises on young undeserving woman recently.

"I am no 'Ser'."

"If you are not a 'Ser' and you are not a 'Lord', then what are you?" Sandor took note of the setting sun and knew they would have to make camp, for soon there would be no light for them to see. And he was not planning on carrying a torch to light his way. He led Stranger off of the road and into the neighboring woods in hopes of finding a safe place to rest for the night. The three travelers did not speak until Sandor had announced that they would camp for the night. He reluctantly helped Sher down and was surprised when the boy did not run off, like most young children would do. Instead the boy stood, running his fingers up and down Stranger's front leg softly. He lifted the girl off of his horse next, seeing the wince when his hands made contact with her sore body. She had not complained of her pain once, but he knew that she had to be hurting. She brought her hands to his shoulders, just near his neck, to steady herself as he took her down. He felt her fingertips slowly moving across the skin on his neck, the gentle caress feeling foreign on his mostly untouched skin. The whores never took their time with him, fucking him as quickly as they could so they wouldn't have to look upon his face for longer than necessary. Not that they even fucking looked. He set Roanya's feet on the ground and slowly removed his hands, not knowing if she could stand on her own. He gave him a smile that looked wrong amongst the bruised skin of her face. No woman would smile through the pain like her.

"I'd thank you properly but I'm afraid I don't know your name." She continued to run her fingers up his neck until she got dangerously close to what remained of his burnt flesh. He took his hands from her body and grabbed her wandering hands, pulling them off of him rougher than he had intended. Her hands were small inside of his, but he didn't doubt that they could do wonderful things to his body.

"Don't fucking touch me." He released her hands and saw he wobble on her feet, but his anger wouldn't let him move to assist her. He instead moved around her to remove his supplies from the pack attached to his saddle. He felt her move away from his body, and when he turned he saw her son leading her, their hands clasped together. He couldn't remember much of his own mother, but he wondered if she had shown the love he saw Roanya give if he would have still been the killer her grew to be. He shook his head to clear the sentimental thoughts. Course I'd be a fucking monster. What else can I be, with my hideous face.

"Sher, gather some sticks. I'll need to make a fire if we are going to stay warm in the night."

"No!" The loud tone of his voice caused his pair of companions to jump. "No fucking fires. I have a blanket." He laid his bedroll out as if to prove his point, but she could not see it, so it did not have the desired affect he had hoped for. Can't intimidate her by actions. I'll have to use my words. She scoffed at him, her voice showing her annoyance.

"One blanket? For the three of us?"

"I never said it was for all of us." He went back to his saddle and took out a slice of bread, having no intention of sharing. He saved her from the inn but that didn't mean that he would take care of her now.

"Sher, gets sticks." She spoke to the boy who still held her hand and he nodded. His footsteps were eerily silent as he moved across the leaves on the forest floor. Sandor couldn't believe that this girl, this blind, beaten girl, would defy him. Even after he had saved her life. It pissed him off.

"Are you fucking deaf as well? No. Fires." Roanya knew the man would invoke her temper at some point. She had hoped to make it farther before it did. But when he had called her deaf as well, insulting her more than he knew, it had, rightfully, pissed her off. Sher had stopped his movements, watching the interaction between the adults, not truly understanding why the man wouldn't want to start a fire. But Roanya knew. He must fear the flame, if his face is truly burned like Sher said it is.

"I will not allow my son to freeze because you can't handle being near a flame. We've all been burned by fire before. Even a child learns that it's nothing to fear if you are careful. Sher, sticks, now." The boy wandered a few more feet away and obeyed his mother. Sandor took a few large steps towards the girl who he was starting to regret he had saved. He didn't need the trouble that she surely would offer him. He got close enough that she could feel the heat from his skin, and the anger coming off of him. His anger felt like water boiling over a flame. Controllable, but ready to overflow at any moment.

"This is MY camp. You want a fire, then go, build one. Leave. I'm done with you. I saved your life and owe you no more." Roanya panicked at the thought of him forcing her to leave, she would never be able to survive in the woods with only her three year old son. They would die within a few days. But we may die from an illness if we do not stay warm tonight. She would rather take her chances with the cold for one night, than face her certain death if they left the safety the man could provide.

"Please, I'm sorry. Don't force us away, I beg you. Don't save me just to push me to another death. Because surely that is what will happen if I leave this camp." She looked so weak and pathetic in that moment that Sandor couldn't help but compare her to his Little Bird once more.

"Do what you want. But no fire." She called her son back to her and her boy took her to a spot with no tree roots. The pair sat down, the boy curling in his mother's lap, and he did not hear anything more from them as he sat on his bedroll eating his bread. The boy broke the silence nearly an hour later, just as the sun had set. He did not hear the words he spoke so quietly to his mother, but only heard her spoken response.

"I don't know, Sweetling. Just try and sleep. Would you like me to sing you a song?" The boy curled even deeper into her and closed his eyes. Sandor almost wanted to close his eyes and sleep as well as she sung, wishing his own mother would have held him so tenderly as a boy. Instead he had the painful hands of Gregor as his only childhood memory. "You're a sweet little baby. You're a sweet little baby. Honey and the rock and the sugar don't stop, going to bring a bottle to the baby. Don't you weep, pretty baby. Don't you weep pretty baby. He's long gone with his red shoes on, going to need another loving baby. Go to sleep little baby. Go to sleep little baby. You and me and the devil makes three, don't need no other loving baby." She kept rocking even after he had fallen asleep, he could see that the motions of her body were bringing her pain. Sandor had to give her a bit of respect, seeing the way that she sacrificed herself for her son. He stood from his bedroll, bringing the blanket over to the seated girl. He said no words as he wrapped the blanket around her and the sleeping child.

"Thank you." Her voice was soft, not wanting to wake the child that had just fallen asleep in her lap. He gave her a grunt in response and started to walk away until she spoke again. "We could all stay under this blanket, if you held me, like I hold him. It would keep us all warm." He didn't want to lower himself to admitting that she had a point. She heard him moving away and thought that he wouldn't agree to her suggestion. But when she heard his footsteps come back towards her, the sound of his bedroll hitting the ground behind her, she knew he had seen the logic. She removed the blanket from around her shoulders while he positioned his back against a tree. His arms lifted the pair and she settled into his lap, her back against his chest. Sandor pulled the blanket up around them all, not entirely uncomfortable having the woman in his arms. He had spent so many nights without a fire to warm him that he thought that he might actually enjoy the warmth that she would provide in the night. Nothing wrong with holding a woman in the night. And there is no one here to see us. The boy stirred a bit in her arms at being jostled but Roanya started to sing once more. Sandor leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, allowed the girl's voice to wash him into sleep as well. Without being able to see the girl in front of him, he could almost imagine that it was Sansa he held to him in the night singing. Roanya's sweet voiced lulled the man behind her into a light slumber, but she knew a man like he would never fall deep enough into sleep to leave himself open for attack. If only I could touch his face, then I could feel what makes him the man he is.

With that thought on her mind, Roanya allowed sleep to overtake her as well. To anyone passing them in the night, the trio would look like a family, the way they all clung to each other to keep out the cold. But no one saw the sweet scene until the boy awoke the next day. He got out of his mother's arms and the girl shifted slightly at the loss of heat. She snuggled closer into the man that had saved her, her mind not processing what her body did while she slept. Sher smiled at the peaceful look on his mother's face. He knew that she deserved to be happy and wondered if this burned man would be the one to bring her that happiness.

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The song that Roanya sings, I do not own. It is "Didn't leave nobody but the baby", which is famous from "Oh, Brother, where art thou?" Great song...for a great story? Do you think this is great? Well, I do! Hope you enjoyed it! Until next time…