If it wasn't for Sansa coming by every day to check on her and to take her for walks in the gardens and have tea with her, Celeste would've remained cooped up in her room. It became a silent habit to sit with Sandor by the hearth and share a cup of wine with him—though she always drank one while he drank at least six. She appreciated that he wasn't coming into their bedchamber every other night reeking of that whore's perfume.

"You're in good bloody spirits,"

Celeste looked up from her novel as Sandor walked into the room that evening. He began untying his armor and nodded towards the book in her hands, "You're reading that fucking book again for the fiftieth time."

"It's my favorite," she smiled softly. "And yes, I am feeling a bit better."

He grunted as he sunk into the cushions of the armchair. He poured a goblet of wine for himself and for her. "Here, woman."

"Thank you," she closed the book and sipped her wine. "Thank you for being patient with me."

"Don't fucking thank me, woman," he scoffed. "I hate that."

Celeste laughed softly. "I just thought you should know."

It was frightening to hear that Stannis Baratheon and his fleet were on their way to sack King's Landing to take the Iron Throne and the entire city was making the necessary preparations. The night was cold and foreboding as Celeste walked alongside Sansa and her handmaiden, Shae, in the throne room. The queen had asked them to join her and the other ladies of the court in Maegor's Holdfast, where they will remain until the battle between their forces and Stannis Baratheon's was over. Sansa, however, was called into the throne room by King Joffrey so she may see him off. Celeste decided to accompany her.

"Lady Sansa, Lady Celeste," Tryion Lannister approached them dressed in shiny armor. He eyed the handmaiden next to Sansa, "And Sheila?"

"Shae," she corrected coldly.

"Shae, yes," he nodded awkwardly before turning to Sansa and Celeste, "Surely my sister has invited you into Maegor's Holdfast along with the other high-born ladies?"

Sansa responded, "She has, my lord, but King Joffrey has sent for me to see him off."

"Sansa!" Joffrey high-pitched voice called out amongst the crackling of the fires in the throne room. Tyrion frowned softly, "He's always been a great romantic, my nephew."

"Sansa, come here!" the king called out again. Sansa turned to Tyrion as she went to go see Joffrey, "I will pray for your safe return, my lord. Just as I pray for the king's."

Seeing Sansa walk away, Celeste scoffed, "So she wants you dead?"

Tyrion graced her with a smile. "It's good to see you have your humor back, Lady Celeste."

She smiled, bowing her head slightly as she walked towards her husband, who was standing a short distance from where the king and his future queen were. "Sandor."

"Woman," he greeted gruffly. She smiled sadly, "How bad is it out there?"

"Nothing you should concern yourself with," he shrugged. "Don't worry; when I die, you'll be fucking free of me."

"Don't say that; I don't wish death upon you," she shook her head.

He leaned down slightly to whisper, "Trust that fucking instinct I know you have. Get the fuck out of this city if you see men coming into the Red Keep, no matter what the queen or any of the fucking ladies tell you."

"You think we will lose the city?" she whispered back. Sandor eyed the king, making Celeste turn her head to see Joffrey boasting about his battle prowess and his new sword he named Hearteater.

"With this cunt? King's Landing will be sacked in fifteen minutes," he told her. Celeste laughed softly, "Stannis Baratheon won't take the city because you're out there, Sandor. Please, stay safe and come back to me."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're sounding like a fucking wife, woman."

"Well, I am your wife," she tiptoed and kissed his unburned cheek. "I must play the part."

He grunted and straightened his back before sauntering off to follow King Joffrey out of the throne room. When she left the throne room with Sansa, Celeste decided to follow Sandor's orders and keep her eyes and ears open. He rarely suggests things, and the fact that he told her to flee the city if she saw Stannis' men coming into the city was a red flag for her. It almost flattered her that he'd take the time to warn her and advise her.

Maegor's Holdfast had a tense air, the women quiet and visibly terrified. Sansa sat with the queen, who invited her to drink wine and appeared to be in a chatty mood. She heard the occasional battle drum in the distance and the bells of King's Landing. Celeste spent her time thinking of all the ways she could escape, which corridors she'd take, if she would have time to get to her bedchamber and pack some supplies or if she should leave the city on foot or go through the stables and take a horse. But what if there were no horses? And what if she was caught by guards and executed as a deserter and a traitor?

Lancel Lannister, the queen's cousin, walked inside the room for the second time that night and the two began to whisper amongst themselves. From what Celeste gathered, Lancel was insisting on taking King Joffrey back to the battle to boost the army's morale. This infuriated the queen and she pushed Lancel onto his back, making him cry out in pain from the injury he'd received earlier. The queen then took Prince Tommen's hand and hurried out of the holdfast.

The women in the room began to panic at the queen's sudden departure but Sansa quickly calmed them, urging them to sing a hymn. Celeste, her heart pounding against her chest, watched as Shae spoke to Sansa quickly and pushed her out of the room, presumably telling her to go to her chambers. After a few seconds of contemplation, Celeste gathered her skirts in her hands and left the holdfast. If the queen left, that meant the battle has been lost and it was only a matter of time before Stannis and his men breached the Red Keep.

Celeste ran into her chambers, locking the door before rummaging through her and her husband's belongings. She grabbed the biggest leather satchel she could find and began to fill it with essentials: all her jewelry and trinkets and all the gold coins she had. There were three canteens Sandor left lying around and she filled two with water and the third with wine. There was a bowl of fruit on the table and she placed them into the bag along with a sewing kit of needles, thread, and scissors, a folded sheet, and two extra dresses. There were no weapons in the room except for a dinner knife on the table, so she clenched that in her hand as she began making her way through the corridors.

She didn't get very far before she heard the clanking of armor. Her heart racing and her hands trembling, she gripped the knife and prepared herself mentally for the thought of stabbing someone that might try to kill her.

"Put that fucking butter knife down, woman,"

She'd never been so relieved to hear his voice. Sandor Clegane was standing in the middle of the empty corridor in bloody armor, a dagger at his side, and a great sword strapped to his back. He raised his eyebrows, "You listened to me."

"So the city really is lost?" she let out, finding her own words hard to believe.

"I don't know, and I don't fucking care, but I'm leaving this shit city," he grumbled. Celeste's eyes widened, "You deserted the battle?"

Sandor grabbed her arm and began dragging her down the corridor, "The fucking city will burn to the ground if you keep talking, woman."

Celeste struggled against him, "Wait—"

"What the fuck is it now?"

"It's Sansa! She's—"

"I told her I was leaving the city and that I could take her to Winterfell," he explained, taking her by the scruff of her neck this time and dragging her along. "She refused to come with me, saying she was safe here. Load of shite."

Celeste let the information sink in as they weaved through the corridors. There was silence between them as they hurried and Celeste didn't voice her thoughts, but she was oddly flattered he was on his way to their bedchamber hoping she'd followed his advice.

Sandor kicked open the Red Keep's stable doors. The horses inside neighed at the sudden sound but calmed almost immediately as Sandor stomped inside, Celeste following closely behind. Sandor approached an enormous and gorgeous midnight black horse that snorted when he petted his snout. She watched Sandor pull the stallion by the reigns, having the horse walk out of its stable. He then took her by the waist and lifted her onto the saddle as if she weighed nothing. Celeste couldn't help but squirm when he mounted the horse, his arms caging her as he led the horse, "Shouldn't I have my own horse?"

"Have you ever ridden a horse?"

"No," she said softly, realizing where this was going.

"Exactly. Now shut up and keep your head down," he snapped the reigns. "There's flaming fucking arrows everywhere."

Author's Note:

I'd like to thank all my readers and my reviewers for their kind words! You keep me going!