Sansa was sitting on the balcony of her pretty chamber when Arya came in without knocking and brought a chair over to sit next to her sister. "What are we going to do now, Sansa?"

"What do you mean?"

The younger girl looked around, then leaned closer and whispered, "We can't stay here. The Hound said we can't trust Littlefinger."

Sansa frowned. "Lord Baelish saved me when the queen would have had me executed. I have no reason to distrust him."

"And I have no reason to distrust the Hound," said Arya stubbornly. "He saved me when Robb and Mother…"

The older girl took her sister's hands. "Were you there when it happened?"

Arya nodded, choking on unshed tears, and Sansa put her arms around her sister until the younger girl was able to go on. "I wanted to kill Walder Frey...I was going to run right into the hall, but the Hound took me away. And he kept me safe all the way here. He may be the worst shit in the Seven Kingdoms…"

"Arya!"

The younger girl ignored her sister's exclamation of outrage. "...but he's the only friend I had in the world. He could have sold me to the Lannisters or the Freys, but he kept trying to bring me back to my family. I even took him off my list."

"List?" asked Sansa.

Arya felt guilty about mentioning the list-she didn't want her sister to know she had a list of people she was planning to kill. She remembered her bravado about sword fighting when they were together with their father in King's Landing, but it was different now that she really was a killer. It wasn't something she wanted to brag about to Sansa. Somehow being with her sister reminded her of the girl she used to be, the one without blood on her hands, the one who hadn't seen her father die and her brother's body with the head of his wolf in place of his own. Tears threatened again but she forced them back and spoke resolutely. "You can do what you want, but I'm not staying here with Lord Baelish. Once the Hound is better, I'm leaving with him."

Sansa was still thinking about what Arya had said long after her sister left. There were questions that only Sandor Clegane could answer, and once the evening meal was done, she stole off to his room. One of Morwen's assistants was sitting with him and Sansa asked softly, "How is he?"

"About as well as can be expected, my lady," said the boy. "His fever is worse but the infection is draining. My mistress thinks there is a good chance he will recover very soon."

"So he's not going to die?" Sansa felt a surge of happiness she was unable to account for but had no wish to deny, and the assistant smiled at the look on her face.

"It would seem so, my lady. If you would like to sit with him…"

"Oh, yes!" The girl heard the excitement in her voice and said coolly, "That is, if you have no objection I will take a turn with him."

"Of course, my lady." Morwen's assistant went to the door. "I shall return in an hour. If he wakes and is in pain, give him the watered wine."

Sansa took the chair by Sandor's bed, breathing a silent prayer to the Mother. He was sleeping, his hair fallen in tangles over his face and she brushed it back, then wrung out a cloth in a bowl of water. Turning back to him, she was disconcerted to find his eyes, bright with fever, open and fixed on her face.

"What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?" he whispered.

She wiped his face and tried to smile. "I wanted to see how you were doing. I know you are not a knight, but you were the noblest of them all in King's Landing." His face was like a thundercloud as she finished softly, "I should have gone with you when you left."

"Aye, you should have." His voice was faint, but bitter. "You wouldn't leave with me but Lord Baelish...that's a different story. It doesn't matter what he did, all you care about is his pretty face and his pretty ways…"

His voice trailed away and Sansa leaned over him. "What did Lord Baelish do?" There was no response and Sansa took the Hound's hand. "Sandor, tell me. What did he do?"

The Hound sighed, his eyes wandering around the room. "What does it matter now? He betrayed Ned Stark...held a knife to his throat and turned him over to the queen…" He looked up at Sansa. "Is there anything to drink?"

She was in shock over his revelation but she poured a cup of watered wine and helped him drink, then wiped his face again and watched him fall asleep, her mind in turmoil. Could it possibly be true that Petyr Baelish was responsible for her father's death? Or was it just the rambling of a sick man who didn't know what he was saying? She wanted to question Sandor further, but he didn't wake again before the young assistant returned and she had to leave the Hound to his restless dreams.