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Note: An indecent proposal has been made and a choice taken ;-) I look forward to your comments and input!
Chapter 3: An Unlikely Opportunity
It was when the neighboring farm began to burn, that Sansa knew the Hound has come to teach the farmers a lesson. It only stood to reason that a farmer would have burned and destroyed the southern occupied farms, you didn't need to be an investigative genius to see that. So they picked out a couple of farms at random to terrorize, to make examples of them.
The smell of burning wood and hay was overwhelming, screams permeated the air as both Gendry and Sansa ran outside of the farmhouse they shared with friends to see what was going on.
"I'll release the horses, you get everybody else out of the house." Sansa ordered. He nodded and ran back to the house. It would do no good to die now, to have invested so much time into their resistance and make it all for nothing. They would flee their home, giving the Hound's soldiers nothing to terrorize except pigs and sheep.
The barn wasn't close to the rest of the house, in fact it was about a quarter of a mile down the road in the direction of her neighbor's burning farmhouse. Sansa was swift and she knew she needed to be on the lookout for soldiers. The horses were panicking, their shrill cries audible from outside the barn, it would be dangerous in and of itself to go in there and release them. Sansa steeled herself and opened up the large barn doors, using all the strength she could muster. The sight of the flames incited the horses move, their nostrils flaring their hooves flying wildly through the air.
Sansa ran to the stalls and started opening the doors, yelling and motioning for the sacred beasts to run. They would return once the danger was over, but for now they were better served to run.
"Go! Go!" She screamed, smacking a particularly stubborn mare on the hindquarters. The horse snorted, but eventually got over its fear of the flames and the smell of burning. Sansa took a moment breath, she leaned back on one of the stall walls and pulled her hair away from her face.
Suddenly there was a sound in the barn, not the creek of a door in the wind, or a stubborn horse unwilling to run, but of something else. Sansa did her best to stay calm, taking the pitchfork from the ground in the stall and holding it as a weapon in her hands.
"Gendry?" She called out tentatively.
Her mouth went dry when no answer came. Somebody was in the barn, and it wasn't Gendry. Sansa inhaled then rounded the corner of the stall she was in, there was movement and she struck out with the wooden handle of the pitchfork.
Whoever it was, she had hit him in the head, hard. Her training kicked in then, advancing toward her target, she hit him twice in the body, again in the head then flipped the pitchfork and ran the man through, leaving a bloody hole in his stomach. Sansa was breathing hard, as the man dropped to his knees in front of her, blood coming out of his mouth. She recognized his uniform. He was not just any soldier, he belonged to the Hound.
Sansa gasped, but then she was seized from behind by two powerful arms. "You little bitch, you'll pay for that."
Another soldier had her in a bear hug, and she struggled as best she could kicking and wiggling against his strength. Then, realizing she was almost at the same height as her attacker, she threw her head back as hard as she could, connecting with the man's nose breaking it with a sickening crack. It had the desired effect because he immediately let go of her, his hands flying to his face. Sprawled on the floor, she picked herself up and ran back toward the pitchfork, but he was behind her, she could feel he was close. Grabbing the farm tool she fell on the ground and pointed it at her attacker, he ran himself through, a look of shock on his face. Finishing the job Sansa pushed the farm tool toward him, having the soldier fall over, pinning him to the ground. She spat on him then, taking a moment to observe him in his suffering.
"Well well, what do we have here?" Came a deep voice from the open barn door.
Sansa turned to look at the man, feeling her knees weaken at the sight of the Hound. His tall muscular form hung in the door frame, casually putting his sword back in it's sheath, not at all intimidated by the scene before him. He leaned relaxed on the door frame, crossing his large arms across his even larger chest. Sansa uncoupled the pitchfork from the dying soldier and held it up toward her new threat.
"It looks like we have a little killer." The Hound's smile made her uneasy, it was the leer of the devil, something that didn't make you sleep easy at night.
"You stay away from me." Sansa countered, mustering all the courage she had. It didn't cover up her shaking, but she hoped in the darkness he couldn't see it.
The big man blocking her way out, held up his hands in mock surrender, grinning even wider at her. The fire from the other farm lit up his face, showing her its burnt side. Sansa did not to flinch at its sight, knowing it was what he expected.
"Unfortunately killing these men is considered a crime. A crime against the King, and…" he seemed to pause for effect, "...a crime against me."
Sansa gripped the pitchfork tighter, gritting her teeth hard.
"What's your name, little bird?" He was standing upright now, his arms still crossed in front of his chest. He was huge, towering over her, a mass of flesh and bone sculpted into the perfect warrior.
Sansa glared at him. "Magda."
"I'm in a little dilemma here Magda. You see...you killed two of my men. The punishment for that is death...but…" He put his hands in his pockets and began to walk in her direction, as if she were not threatening him with a pitchfork at all. "...it would be a crime in and of itself to put a pretty thing like you to death."
Sansa swallowed, knowing instinctively what he would say next. She watched his grey eyes pass over her body, making her stomach turn.
"So I'll give you two options. You put your weapon down and come back to the castle with me...willingly. You'll get a job in the kitchen by day, warm my bed by night and I promise that if you are good to me girl, I'll be good to you." He was studying her face, trying to see if she was swayed, Sansa did her best to look impassive.
"Or you can fight me, I'll win, have my way with you and cut you down where you stand." Her foe had a self satisfied grin on his face, one that made her uneasy.
She didn't want to die, not when she had so much more to do. Sansa considered her options, considered what she was willing to endure to take back her homeland. It was clear that he thought her a farm girl, a peasant unable to read or write.
'They always underestimate peasants, and women.' Her mind was racing.
It was the way he was studying her that peaked the most interest in Sansa's mind, however. She was curious to him, that much was clear from this tone and his words. Perhaps even intriguing.
'The closer I am to him the more I'll know about what he's doing…' her deviant thoughts ran through her head with lightning speed. 'Gendry comes to the castle every Thursday to repair weapons...what better way to get information than that?'
Of all the games to play, sleeping with the enemy was by far the most dangerous, and possibly the most rewarding. It affordered Sansa certain access she wouldn't have normally had, but it put her at his mercy, made her less anonymous to him and his men. On top of that she had lost the element of surprise with him, he'd clearly observed what she had done to his men, knew she would not waiver to kill a man.
'I'll kill him when the time is right.' She decided. 'Or die trying.'
"You don't mind to share your bed with a killer?" She asked, looking him in the eye. She said these words as defiantly as she could, a slight hope she could sway him to change his mind.
The Hound chuckled, taking a few steps toward her, allowing the bloody end of the pitchfork to rest on his chest. It was almost as if he was daring her to kill him.
"If I can be honest with you Magda, I kinda like it." He flashed her a devilish grin. "The blood on your hands, the droplets on your face, the way your dress has been ripped, exposing the curve of your collarbone. It gets me hard." His attention to detail didn't go unnoticed, nor the sound of arousal in his voice.
The Hound continued, "I am many horrible things, but I am a man of my word. If you're good to me, I'll treat you well. If you whelp for me…" His eyes ran over her body, hungry. Then he ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous almost boyish sort of way, "...I'll even give you my name."
'He likes me.' Sansa thought, 'He likes a fighter. And he wants me to like him too.'
It was not uncommon for soldiers to take local wives, but it was much less common for commanders to do so. This either indicated that he intended to stay there awhile, or he had taken a particular fancy to her. Sansa knew she could capitalize on this, but needed to endure certain unpleasantries in order to fully understand how. The unknown excited her, and scared her all at the same time.
Sansa looked him over again, asking herself if she could not only endure him, but eventually conquer him. She would never achieve this feat physically, but emotionally or psychologically perhaps. He was strong and powerful, a killer for sure, but also a brilliant tactician.
'Can I outsmart the Hound?' The thought was alluring, intoxicating actually. It would be a game of chess fought on multiple fronts.
The decision was made, Sansa dropped the pitchfork to the ground. The clang it made ringing loud in her ears.
The Hound grinned, pleased with her answer.
In an odd display of chivalry, her opponent removed his cloak and with a flourish wrapped it around her shoulders to keep her warm. Sansa walked out of the barn with him, a clenching in her chest. They approached his horse and the Hound got down on one knee next to it, offering his hands as a way to vault her up into the saddle. He looked like the happiest man on the planet as she put her foot on him and he brought her to sit in the saddle of his massive war horse. She felt him settle into the saddle behind her, grabbing the reins and pulling her close.
Her captor smelled her hair, then whispered in her ear, "Mmmmm kissed by fire, just like me."
He laughed at his own joke. Then he spurred his horse, "Hup Stranger."
As they rode off into the night, Sansa checked the edge of the forest knowing Gendry would be watching from there. Not knowing if he could see her or not, she made a hand motion low, where the Hound could not see. It meant, 'take it easy.' It meant 'don't risk yourself now.' It was a plea not to attack the Hound.
Sansa steeled herself for the journey she was about to embark on. It was an unlikely opportunity that had been thrust upon her. She had cast her die and hoped her gamble would pay off.