Content Notice: underage kissing, language
SANSA
Sansa had taken to spending her mornings with her mother in Lord Hoster's rooms. Her grandfather had woken up several times but only once had he recognized her for who she was. Other times, he had mistaken her for one of his daughters, most often Lysa, whom he had begged for forgiveness. The first time it had happened, Sansa had looked to her mother for guidance, only to see her looking away with a painful expression on her face. Later that day, Catelyn had told her about her suspicion of what had transpired all those years ago. Sansa felt a burst of sympathy for her poor aunt, realizing for the first time that a similar situation may easily come to pass for her as well.
She was the Princess in the North, a sister to the King and as such, she would be very sought after. She had thought when she had been younger that she would be able to cope with an arranged marriage like that and had been actually overjoyed when her father and the late King Robert had made her match with Joffrey. She had been stripped of her illusions later on and the thought of going through with another such experience was near unbearable. She consoled herself that even though she was already a woman grown - her flowering had marked her as such - her official coming of age was still years away. To get her mind off those things, she sought to occupy herself through other means.
Having taken nothing with her but literally the clothes on her back from the King's Landing meant that she needed a new wardrobe made up for her, her mother's old things not fitting her as well as they should. She had also commissioned several outfits for Sandor, reasoning with her mother that if he was to act as her sworn shield - the fact which had by now been widely accepted by everyone - he should look the part. Sandor himself had only told her not to dole him up too much as he was no "fucking doll to play dress up with".
Sansa's worries that he would manage to alienate everyone with his brusque and rude behaviour proved unfounded after all. After the first couple of days, when it became apparent that the Hound had really come over to their side, the soldiers and lords alike started to accept him more. He spent some of his free evenings drinking with the common soldiers - something Sansa frowned at but as he didn't overdo his drinking the way he had had in King's Landing, she didn't protest much - and some in the counsel with her uncle and his group of friends. Sansa was startled to realize that he had known a good number of them already, either from when Robert had travelled the realm in the past or from various tourneys in which they all had participated. He wasn't liked by them, no, but he had their grudging respect which was more than Sansa had expected.
"The talk is your brother's gotten married," he told her one evening as they stood on the top of one of the towers, hidden from the sight of the guards by a protruding corner. Sansa was leaning her back against him, his white cloak with a grey direwolf sigil - her gift to him to acknowledge their shared past and to distinguish him from the rest of the Stark forces - enveloping them both as he held her in a loose embrace.
"But how? He has been in the Westerlands these past few months," Sansa twisted around to better look at him in the fading daylight. She had of course been told of Robb's betrothal to one of Walder Frey's daughters and wondered what her new sister would be like. "I thought he wanted to wait until the war was over."
Sandor snorted, the burned side of his face pulling tight as he smirked in contempt.
"Why do you think there are no Freys to be seen around? He married someone else. A Westerling of the Crag, they say. Freys took that as a slap in the face and left. The boy ordered that your lady mother is not to be told. He's going to tell her himself, he said, since it concerns that precious Stark honour of his."
"Why would Robb break his word?" Sansa wondered. Robb had always wanted to be like their father. His honour meant almost everything to him. Sandor looked down at her and tipped her chin up until their eyes met.
"Because, little bird, sometimes a pretty face and a warm body's enough to make any man forget himself."
Sansa's breath caught in her throat and she leant forward unconsciously. She didn't think he was talking about Robb anymore.
"Do I make you forget yourself?" she asked daringly, her eyes steady on his face.
"No," he told her and Sansa felt a sharp stab of disappointment. She looked away from him, watching over the battlements as the Red Fork flew eastward. She heard him sigh.
"Little bird," he said but she refused to look at him again. He turned her face around gently as he had always been with her, his hand warm on her cheek. "You are being foolish."
"I do not think so," Sansa sniffed, stubbornly refusing to look at him again. "I do not even know why you would kiss me since you clearly do not want me. But you do not have to pretend for my sake, I can-"
The kiss he gave her was unlike any they had shared before. It was like being burned alive, each part of her body and soul falling apart only to come back together at the point where their mouths met. Sansa could feel his hands on her body as they pulled her closer until she was pressed against him so tightly she doubted any space remained between them. Her back was against the wall she thought but there might have been nothing there at all and she wouldn't have known for all the notice she gave to her surroundings, his presence encompassing her completely. As tall as she was, Sandor still dwarfed her, his height, his wide shoulders, his big hands that touched her so confidently, she was aware of him with every part of her being.
When he pulled away, Sansa tried to follow but he held her back and she realized that, yes, he had turned them around and pressed her against the wall. And not only that, her own arms were tightly wound around his neck, her fingers fisted in his hair and she could feel the wetness in her smallclothes that she had only become familiar with recently. Sansa blushed furiously. She had thought that one time in the woods on their way to Riverrun she had reacted too wantonly but it had been nothing compared to what had just transpired between them.
"Sandor?" she asked timidly, unsure of what his reaction might be after this.
"If I were to forget myself with you," he told her in a voice much rougher than usual, "I wouldn't be able to stop at only kissing you. It's already damn hard to not take you, you stupid girl, with how you are constantly offering yourself to me."
"I am not offering myself to you," Sansa told him, insulted. Whores offered themselves. She was giving him her affection. Those were two completely different things. She loved him, that was why she let him take all those liberties with her, the kisses and the touching and the embraces. He hadn't liked it when she had tried to tell him once how she had felt so she had decided to show him in another way.
"Sure you aren't," he snorted, clearly not believing her. "But it doesn't matter. What matters is that for once in my fucking life I am trying to do right by someone which is more than I have ever done for anyone else. You made me change my loyalties, fuck, there are times when I forget about my brother when I am with you. And then you claim that I do not want you? No matter how grown up you look, it's as if deep down you are still that empty-headed little girl you were before."
"Oh," Sansa was very touched by his words but also angry. He had just admitted that she was someone who meant more to him than anyone else. On the other hand, he apparently still thought she was a stupid little girl. But then, why would he care for her so much if she annoyed him so? She didn't understand his reasoning but pushing him for an explanation wouldn't do any good, she knew that much. Although, thinking about it more, she cared for him, too, even if he annoyed her sometimes. It was the same thing at its core.
"I am sorry," she told him sincerely, reaching up to cup his scarred cheek. She had noticed before that he liked that. "I just thought that it was only me who couldn't focus on anything else when together and I could not bear that."
"You are spoiled," he said to her. "A spoiled little princess who's used to getting everything she wants."
"I am not!" Sansa tried to protest but he shushed her, an amused look appearing in his eyes.
"I'm really looking forward to how you handle your brother. He might have the crown but you have the attitude. Seven hells, the boy won't know what hit him," Sandor laughed. "He must already be nervous about facing his mother and now you will put your foot down about keeping the dog that has followed you home."
Sansa didn't like the way he talked about himself sometimes. For all his claims that dogs were much better creatures than knights, she still thought it wrong of him to demean himself like that.
"Do not talk like that, please," she asked him, the same conversation having happened between them before. He obeyed but his last words got stuck in her head. Robb would arrive any day now, his new wife with him. How would Sansa face the woman who made her brother forsake his oaths? And, although she disliked herself for thinking that way, could she maybe use the guilt that Robb had to feel to make sure he approves of Sandor's appointment as her sworn shield? After all, the scandal of having a former Lannister man as a guard was much less than breaking a royal promise.
She kept thinking about that over the course of the next few days, even if it was hard to keep the news from her mother. She felt guilty for that, even more so that she had yet to admit it had been her who had told the Queen about her father's plans. There were times when Sansa wondered if things would have gone differently if she had obeyed her father and done as told. Maybe their family would still be whole and together, as it was meant to be. There would have been no war and she would still be arguing every day with Arya and her mother wouldn't look so sad all the time.
Of course, she wouldn't have come to love Sandor if things had gone that way. He would have remained the Hound, the broken man who had shared something with her once and made her sad for him instead of scared of him. He might have even gotten killed, although Sansa had a hard time imagining anyone able to do him harm. Well, there was his brother but when they had fought at the tourney, Sandor had seemed to hold his own quite well.
It was foolish to dwell on such things, she told herself everytime her thoughts took her in that direction. The past was over and done with and no amount of regrets would make it change. It would be best to forget about it all and focus on her future.
When Robb had finally arrived at Riverrun, it wasn't a triumphant blaring of trumpets that announced him but instead an eruption of barking from the kennels. Catelyn closed the book she had been reading while Sansa dropped her sewing, the two of them looking at each other.
"Robb?" Sansa guessed and her mother nodded.
"They must smell Grey Wind."
"Robb's wolf," Sansa whispered, remembering Lady for a moment before she gathered herself and stood up. "We should go see him right now," she said, happy that the secrecy was over. When her mother didn't move, Sansa paused as well. "Aren't you going to welcome him?"
"I am still detained, Sansa. Until he sends for me, I should stay here," Catelyn told her seriously.
"You are his mother," Sansa exclaimed and Catelyn smiled tightly.
"And he's my king as well as my son. I committed a treason against the king, not against the son, so I should wait."
"I shall speak for you," Sansa decided, her guilt over keeping things away from her mother making her more determined than ever to make up for it. "Robb will not say no to me."
She opened the door, Sandor already waiting for her. She walked almost briskly, anxious now to talk with her brother and straighten things out. Jon had always been Arya's favourite big brother while Robb had been hers. He would grant her anything she asked for, she was sure of that.
When they emerged into the courtyard, the men were just starting to dismount. Sansa looked over the crowd, searching for the familiar face near the standards bearing the direwolf on them. At first, she didn't recognize Robb at all, since his back was to her as he was helping a young woman down from her saddle. That had to be his wife. She was rather pretty, especially when she smiled. Yes, Sansa could come to like her easily if Robb's wife was as kind as her smile promised.
A crowd parted to Sansa's side as a large body stalked slowly forward with an easy grace. A hush fell when a fully grown direwolf, as big as a pony, stopped before Sansa and sniffed at her, his ears flattening against his skull.
"Grey Wind?" Sansa asked, tentatively reaching out to pat the wolf's head. He let her touch him and she scratched behind his ears the way that Lady had liked. He closed his eyes, his tail wagging back and forth before he pulled away from her. The wolf then looked at Sandor standing behind her and Sansa found herself holding her breath. If Grey Wind decided he didn't like him... Even Lady had growled at Sandor once, although Sansa herself had been scared of him at that time and her own wolf had always reacted to her moods.
"It is alright, Grey Wind," she told the wolf quietly as he padded forward again. He took a sniff of Sandor's cloak, looked back at her with the golden eyes that seemed almost human and then he turned and stalked away as quietly as he had appeared.
"Well, that was interesting, little bird," Sandor rumbled and Sansa laughed in relief.
"I think he liked you," she told him and Sandor smirked down at her before straightening his posture.
"Your Grace," he said and Sansa turned around to find her brother standing behind her, looking at her as if still not believing she was really there.
"Your Grace," Sansa repeated, sinking into her most elegant curtsey. "I am glad to see you well."
"Sansa," Robb spoke up, his voice slightly choked up. "Uncle Edmure let me know of your return but I did not expect you to be so different."
Sansa wasn't sure if he was referring merely to her physical appearance or to something else but she had been trained how to deal with any awkward situation. And Robb's new wife was standing stiffly at his side, clearly uncomfortable so Sansa smiled at her reassuringly.
"The last year has changed us all, brother. I heard you got married. Maybe you could introduce my new sister to me?"
Robb smiled at the girl at his side, obviously very much in love and Sansa counted that as another point in the girl's favour, to break through her brother's serious demeanour like that.
"Of course. Sansa, this is my wife, Lady Jeyne, formerly of House Westerling. Jeyne, this is my sister Sansa, of House Stark."
"I am happy to call you sister," Sansa told her, leaning in to kiss the girl on both cheeks. Since it was the mother's duty to welcome the new daughter to the hearth, Sansa herself could only express her acceptance. Jeyne blushed becomingly before she returned the gesture and words. Robb looked quite happy with that and took Jeyne's arm again.
"Maybe we should proceed into the Great Hall so I can hear more of what had been going on in Riverlands and beyond."
"Your Grace," a woman's voice called out and an elderly woman bearing an obvious resemblance to Jeyne approached them with a younger girl who might have been as old as Sansa at her heels. Jeyne's family, Sansa realized as two knights and a young boy followed them, the boy bearing a saddlebag and looking quite proud of it.
"Lady Sybell," Robb acknowledged the older woman. "Let me introduce my sister Sansa. Sansa, allow me to present Lady Sybell, the wife to Lord Gawen Westerling and Jeyne's mother," the two women exchanged nods but when Lady Sybell raised her head, she suddenly paled. Sansa moved forward as if to offer assistance - the long ride must have exhausted the woman, she thought - but then she followed the older woman's line of sight and saw her regarding Sandor with a terrified expression on her face. Sansa almost stomped her feet in frustration.
"That man-" Lady Sybell started but Sansa interrupted her with a sweet smile that was nowhere near genuine.
"Is my sworn shield, Sandor Clegane. I understand his appearance may cause alarm but I find it very useful in scaring off unwanted attention."
Sandor smirked at that though to anyone else it would look like a frightful grimace.
"I beg your pardon, Your Grace," the woman said, visibly trying to pull herself together. "I was merely surprised to find him here. His loyalty to the House Lannister is well known."
"Correct me if I am wrong, my lady," Sansa spoke in her calmest voice. "But could not the same thing be said about your House as well? You were sworn bannermen to House Lannister before joining my brother's cause, were you not?"
She must have put more venom into her tone than she had intended because Robb frowned at her, while Jeyne glanced fearfully between her mother and Sansa.
"Sansa," Robb started to say but Lady Sybell had already composed herself, even though Sansa saw that her rebuke had been noted.
"It is alright, Your Grace," Lady Sybell said. "I have been rude and for that I apologize. Princess Sansa, I did not mean any offense."
"That is quite alright, Lady Sybell," Sansa spoke graciously. "These are trying times, as we all know."
Lady Sybell smiled and Sansa smiled back, though there was something that had made her uneasy about the other woman. The younger of the knights with Lady Sybell stepped forward then, his manner easy and comfortable as he smiled.
"Maybe we should move inside, the rest of the people are getting impatient," he pointed out the still milling Northern and Riverlands' lords who were obviously waiting for their king to precede them into the hall. Sansa flushed as she thought of the scene that had just happened in front of so many witnesses. Then again, Robb should have known better than to conduct an introduction in the middle of the yard. And she shouldn't have been so provoked by someone reacting to Sandor with fear. She had feared him herself, a long time ago. But Sandor was hers now and she wouldn't let anyone look down on him.
"A spoiled princess, like I said," the man she had been thinking about told her in a low voice as they followed after Robb and his bride. Before she could respond, another man appeared at her other side, an older one with a craggy face and bearing some resemblance to her grandfather, Lord Hoster.
"You have the Tully's looks and temper, niece," he told her with a smile. Sansa knew who he was immediately, the emblem on his surcoat the final proof.
"Uncle Brynden, I am glad to have finally met you," she responded as they walked down the length of the Great Hall towards a dais where her brother intended to hold his court.
"I am glad that Cat got at least half of her wish fullfilled," he told her, clapping her on the shoulder as he took the steps to the dais two at a time while Sansa walked up with more dignity to take the place that belonged to her.
And then she schooled her face into a mask of polite interest as lord after lord went in front of Robb and reported to him all that had happened in his absence. Observing her brother, Sansa could see that he was comfortable in his role, despite his young age. Jeyne was less sure of herself but Sansa had a good feeling about her and resolved to help her new sister deal with her role as the Queen in the North and Queen of Trident. It was the least she could do.
Maybe things will finally go well, Sansa thought when her mother finally arrived to face her son and king only to be promptly forgiven for her deed. They were family again and as the earlier introductions were finished properly, Sansa allowed herself to hope. As she followed her brother, mother and both uncles into the audience chamber, to talk in private as a family, she lost herself in her thoughts and not really listened to the other four talking. Even if she did, she had no idea how her life would turn upside down in just a few short minutes.
The Frey matter was the most important one and after both Robb and Uncle Brynden scolded Uncle Edmure for his actions at Stone Mill - which Sansa found a little strange as it was not only his fault but theirs as well, at least in her estimation - the talk turned to how exactly appease the proud Lord of the Crossing.
"Lord Walder is obviously eager to have his children married into our family," Robb spoke and looked at their mother. "You said it yourself once."
"He wanted to have grandchildren who are kings," Catelyn replied.
"Princes will have to suffice," Robb said quietly and Sansa froze. No, not this again. "Sansa, I am sorry for this but you will have to marry one of his sons to bring the Freys back to our side."
TBC
A/N: Just a heads up, if you are female and have LJ account, this story is actually one chapter ahead on sansa_sandor community fic meme. And there are several other great stories, finished ones, even. And if you like my writing (having received mostly positive reviews I tend to think I write adequately), my Sandor/Sansa lemons (three or four of them, all quite explicit *grin*) can be found over on Archive of Our Own. My nick is Mirime there.