It was a long morning. Sansa didn't see Clegane in the great hall as she broke her fast or anywhere else in the castle. Earlier than necessary, she returned to her room to get ready. She wondered what exactly she was getting ready for. He hadn't said what they'd be doing and Sansa wasn't sure how to dress. A part of her wondered if Clegane would take her somewhere fancy to eat, since he'd seen her dining out with Ser Hugh, but she was no better at predicting his actions now than she had been before so she raked through her gowns looking for something that was pretty but not too dressy and practical but not too plain. In the end, she settled on a white gown patterned with a subtle diamond design that cinched under her bust with a bright rose-colored ribbon. Her maid swept half of her hair up and pinned it in a simple style. When she was alone again, Sansa looked at herself in her mirror and thought, Do I look too young in this? She didn't know exactly how old Clegane was but he was certainly several years older than herself. She added some dangly emerald earrings and turned from side to side, frustrated by the uncertainty of the appropriateness of her gown.
As she was walking to her wardrobe to consider her options again, a knock came at the door. "Lady Sansa." It was him. Sansa's heart fluttered madly as she crossed the room. Please, don't let me be underdressed.
She opened the door and found Clegane wearing dun-colored breeches, a blue-gray tunic, and a dark gray cloak. His long black hair was loose and his eyes soaked her in in an instant, a look of approval lightening his features.
Sansa smiled at him and he offered his arm, which she accepted while suddenly feeling shy. "I wasn't sure what to wear . . ." she admitted.
"What you're wearing is fine."
"What are we doing?"
"You'll see."
Clegane escorted her through the castle at a leisurely pace, taking major corridors and walking her out the main entrance. They went to the stables where one of the stableboys was trying to finish readying Clegane's horse.
"I'll take him," Clegane said.
The stableboy nodded and moved aside, the relief on his face warring with the discomfort of the Hound having to finish his job.
"Did you have my horse saddled?" Sansa asked, looking around even though her mare was not kept in this stable.
Clegane looked over his shoulder at her like she'd just suggested they fly to their location. "You'll ride with me," he said bluntly.
Sansa looked at his horse with new eyes. He was big. The way he pawed the ground and tossed his head made Sansa think he was fast, too, and eager to be out. Her breath hitched in her chest.
"What's his name?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
"Stranger," Clegane answered as he fixed a few last straps.
That's blasphemy! Sansa thought, wondering if she shouldn't insist on her own horse. Before she had time to think about it further, Clegane turned, took her by the waist, and lifted her into the saddle. "Oh!" she said.
He didn't react as he vaulted in behind her. "Ready?"
Sansa looked at the ground far, far below and prayed she wouldn't be tossed out of the saddle. Then Clegane took up the reins and, with his strong arms on either side of her, she realized that wasn't possible. She relaxed a little but then sat straight when her back came into contact with his chest. "I'm ready," she answered, holding herself as still as possible.
Clegane guided Stranger toward one of the city gates.
"Where are we going?"
"We're getting out of here."
Sansa sat and watched as the city streets gave way to trees. She felt more at ease now that people weren't turning to look at them with furrowed brows. Soon, Clegane led his horse off the road and they began to cut through the greenery, loosely following the bank of a small creek. The air was moist and fresh and sweetened by the fragrance of flowers she couldn't see.
"It's pretty here," Sansa said, figuring they'd reached their destination.
A noncommittal noise was all she got by way of response.
The creek widened and deepened, though it still couldn't be called a river. The ground grew rocky and Stranger picked his way around the boulders and large outcroppings. Up ahead was a very large hill mostly made of stone. The creek disappeared around the side of it. "Is this where we're going?" Sansa asked, struck by the beauty of the place.
"Almost. Stay put." With that he dismounted and led Stranger to the bank and then out into the water. Clegane held the reins with one hand and steadied himself on the rock with the other. Slowly they edged around the hill where it cut into the stream and then sharply receded. On the other side was a private little alcove. It was as though a portion of the hill had been scooped out. The trees at the top of the hill shaded half of the area below that went from stones near the water to moss near the sheer stone wall that was covered in part by a flowering vine. Sansa had never seen a more tranquil place since coming to King's Landing.
Clegane led Stranger into the shade and helped Sansa out of the saddle. While he rummaged through the saddle bags, she took in their surroundings. There was a crude log bench pushed up against the stone-face that she assumed Clegane had made at some point and a ring of larger stones encircling the burnt remains of branches.
"How did you find this place?"
"During a hunt, I chased a fox into a thicket and got separated from the group. I saw this spot from the other side of the water there," he nodded in the creek's direction, "and, later, figured out how to get back. The road runs on the other side of the hill but I don't think anyone knows about this hollow."
"It's lovely," Sansa said in all honesty.
Clegane finished getting some hay out for his horse and then began to rummage through a different bag. He pulled out a blanket and spread it on the moss.
"Can I help?" offered Sansa.
"You can sit," he said, though he handed her two trenchers.
Sansa lowered herself on to the blanket and watched as he filled his arms. Then he sat and arranged various flagons and food packages on the blanket between them. Sansa reached to open one but he stayed her hand and opened them himself, offering each to her before choosing anything for himself. It was a simple meal of cold beef, a wedge of hard cheese, olives and nuts, several slices of bread, strawberries, and a few apples, one of which he tossed to Stranger.
Sansa nibbled at her food and was suddenly unsure of what to say. They were so alone. She glanced shyly at him and he held her eye as he tipped his head back and drank his wine.
"Do you go up to the roof often?" he asked.
Sansa was surprised by his question. "No, not really. I only discovered how to get up there a few weeks ago."
"There are lots of places like that in the Keep."
They talked about life in the Red Keep as they ate and he asked her some questions about Winterfell. When they'd finished eating the main portion of their food, Clegane stretched out on the blanket with his hands behind his head. His triceps looked as hard as the stones along the creek bed and a narrow swath of his midriff was visible where his tunic had pulled up, little undulations of muscle apparent across his abdomen. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before gazing up at the clouds.
"Is this what you do when you come here alone?"
"Yes," he said.
Sansa took a bite of strawberry, leaning forward so the juice wouldn't drip on her gown. Sandor noticed and rolled onto his side a little so he could pull a handkerchief out of his pocket.
"Thank you," Sansa said, taking it. "So you come here and watch the clouds?" she asked after another bite.
Clegane reached out and took some nuts, opening his mouth and letting them cascade in from his hand. Once he finished crunching on them, he said, "It beats the seven hells out of watching Joffrey."
Sansa couldn't contain her surprise. It had never occurred to her that sworn shields might not like their charges.
"Too bad Myrcella wasn't born first," he added, making himself comfortable again.
Sansa looked up at the white puffs scuttling by overhead. "I like Myrcella very much."
"She's a proper little lady."
Sansa stiffened. Clegane had referred to herself in just that way. "You like proper little ladies, don't you?"
He opened one eye and looked at her. Before he could say anything, Sansa added, "I can tell you care a great deal about Myrcella."
"What else can you tell?"
"I . . ." Sansa wasn't sure how to answer.
"Why were you following me, little bird?" he asked as he turned on his side and propped up his head with the heel of his hand.
"You still haven't told me why you were following me."
He hesitated only a moment. "You seemed . . . different."
"Than what?"
"Margaery, for a start."
Sansa stiffened.
"I wanted to see if it was all mummery."
"And?"
"You're a proper little lady," he said, his eyes crinkling just slightly.
Sansa couldn't help but smile. He seemed to relax a little, too. "And me?" he asked, rolling on to his back again.
Sansa shifted so she was facing the creek and not him. It seemed easier to talk when they weren't looking at each other. "When I realized you were following me, I wanted to know why. So I followed you to see what I could learn."
"How did you know I was following you?"
"I could feel it but Arya was the one who figured out it was you. She was following me, too."
He shook his head like he couldn't believe it.
"How did you know I was following you?" Sansa asked. It struck her how unusual it was to be having an open conversation about such behavior but it wasn't uncomfortable. Instead, it felt nice to clear the air after wondering about it for so long.
Clegane laughed. "I could hear you a league away. And I could smell your perfume."
That made Sansa feel self-conscious. "Oh," was all she could think to say in reply.
"It smells nice."
"So you knew I was there when you helped the washerwoman by the well? Was that all mummery?" She hoped not. She was surprised by how very much she hoped not.
"No, I didn't see you until I left the kitchen." He was quiet a moment before he added, "You spend a lot of time by that well."
Sansa laughed. "You must, too, if you see me there so often."
He chuckled.
They fell into a silence after that. The gentle lapping of the water and the singing of the birds filled the hollow with sound. Sansa lounged a little more on the blanket. She looked over at Clegane. His eyes were closed again and he looked utterly at peace. It was a striking difference from his usual appearance. He seemed on edge most of the time.
He must have felt the weight of her gaze. "Make yourself comfortable, little bird." Then another thought seemed to strike him. He opened his eyes and asked, "Unless you want to go . . . ?"
"No . . ." It was improper to lay with a man other than one's husband but she and Clegane were a good three feet apart and no one could see them. She inched down the blanket and mimicked his pose. The moss was soft and spongy and she couldn't resist stretching her arms and taking a deep breath. It's so peaceful here. She hadn't taken Clegane for the sort of man who craved comfort but he'd certainly found a beautiful little haven for himself.
"Do you come here often?" Sansa asked.
"Not as often as I'd like."
"It's kind of you to share your retreat with me."
He turned his head and looked at her. There was an awful intimacy in gazing at each other across the narrow span of blanket between them. "I thought you'd like it. And I didn't think you'd tell anyone."
"I won't," she quickly assured him. "And I do like it here. It's quiet and pretty." Sansa took another look around. This flowery enclave was not what she expected from Clegane. She wasn't sure what she expected from Clegane. He didn't seem to feel a need to impress her and, after recent events, the lack of pretence was refreshing. What with all the excitement surrounding the wedding, getting away from the Keep and enjoying some fresh air and peace and quiet was more welcome than Sansa would have thought.
She closed her eyes and was just starting to feel drowsy when Clegane rolled over on to his stomach. He glanced at her before reaching out to pick a tuft of moss and pull it apart bit by bit. Sansa watched him.
"Sandor?" Her voice was scarcely more than a whisper.
He turned and fixed her with a soft but wary look.
"Why are you with Margaery?" she asked quietly. She had to know. He'd been honest about his reasons for following her so maybe his candor would extend a little further.
He tossed the moss aside and blew out a breath without looking at her. He shrugged his massive shoulders. "She was a bird in the hand."
Sansa was caught off-guard by the intensity of the spike of jealousy that went through her. She thought she was Clegane's only bird.
"She seems to like you very much." The words didn't sound entirely convincing even to her.
"She likes attention."
Sansa didn't say anything. She knew he was right.
"What about you and Ser Hugh?" he asked in a tight voice.
"He's . . ."
Clegane watched her closely, his expression ranging from aggression to worry to sadness to resignation.
"I . . ." Sansa didn't wish to speak ill of anyone. Ser Hugh had done her no wrong. She just didn't enjoy his company very much. "He's . . . not right for me."
"No, he's not."
Sansa thought about asking why Clegane objected to him so but she found she didn't want to discuss Ser Hugh any further. Clegane must have felt the same way because he suddenly rolled to his feet and held out his hand. "Enough talk."
Sansa let him pull her up and smiled to herself when he didn't release her hand.
"Careful on the rocks," he said as he guided her to the water's edge.
They ambled along together, looking at fish in the water, nudging aside stones with the toes of their shoes, and remarking on impersonal topics now and again. Sansa had never spent this much time alone with Clegane before. He was easier to talk to than she would have thought and any silences were comfortable enough but what amazed her the most was his level of observation, particularly about the proceedings and members of the court. He'd been in King's Landing twelve years longer than she had and had plenty of anecdotes with which to amuse her. He seemed to like it when she laughed. He would smile and look down and Sansa would laugh some more because the action made him seem shy and the Hound wasn't shy about anything. The shoreline was the widest part of the hollow but it only took a minute or two to traverse so they made slow arcs back and forth, hand in hand, as the shadows grew longer.
They heard the shrill cries of some hawks flying overhead and watched as they disappeared beyond the hill. Their path drew Sansa's eye back to the flowering vine scaling the rock-face.
"What kind of flowers are those?" Sansa asked. "I've never seen them before."
"I don't know but they match your dress."
They walked over and Clegane helped her on to the log bench to get a better look. Sansa leaned toward one of the large deep pink blossoms while Sandor kept a firm hold on her arm. The fragrance was similar to a melon and unlike any flower Sansa had ever smelled before. Clegane reached past her and pinched off a bloom. She turned to ask him why and was startled to discover that they were of a height. He tucked the blossom into her hair before returning his gaze to hers. They stood frozen for a moment, their eyes transfixed on one another. Then Clegane leaned in and softly kissed her, her eyes fluttering shut just as he made contact. His kiss was gentle and tentative and so far removed from what Sansa would have expected that she sunk into it. He kissed her harder and moved his hands to her waist. Shivers scurried up and down Sansa's back and she realized she was gripping his tunic.
When they parted, he murmured, "Little bird," as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. Sansa felt terribly shy. She let go of his tunic and smoothed the gathered fabric, a little abashed at her reaction. His eyes dropped to her hands. She realized she was caressing his chest and immediately stopped.
He drew her close, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply of its scent. The movement of the air tickled her neck and she giggled. His lips brushed against her earlobe as he whispered, "I should take you back now."
Sansa nodded. The hollow suddenly felt small and close and Clegane was so large and immediate. She took a gulp of air and held on to his shoulders as he lowered her down from the bench, overwhelmed by all of the feelings he stirred up within her.
Once the remains of their meal and the blanket had been packed away, Clegane lifted Sansa into Stranger's saddle and navigated them out of the hollow on the opposite side from which they had entered. It was slightly farther from King's Landing but required less time in the trees to reach the road. When he mounted up behind her, Sansa felt acutely aware of every inch of his body. It was an agony. That he was attracted to her was certain. That she was attracted to him had been made plain. It was what to do about the attraction that was unclear.
They didn't speak, each seemingly similarly unsettled. Just when Sansa thought she could take his proximity no more, Clegane pushed her hair aside and nuzzled the back of her neck, his breath hot on her skin. The sensation sent jolts down her spine. Sansa's eyes fell to his thighs and she nearly laid her hands on them when he muttered something to himself, tugged on the reins, and sent Stranger into a thundering gallop. Clouds of dust billowed up behind them as they hurtled headlong down the road. The trees streaked by and Sansa clutched desperately at the saddle as the cold rush of air in her face and the pounding of Stranger's hooves cut through the smouldering atmosphere threatening to ignite between she and Clegane.
They cantered into the stableyard, seemingly in view of the entire population of the Red Keep. Why is everyone outside? Sansa wondered as she took in all the familiar faces. It seemed only luck had not brought Margaery or Ser Hugh out with the rest.
Clegane, of course, paid them no notice and guided Stranger right through the throng and into the stable. He threw the reins to a stableboy and dropped out of the saddle immediately. He seemed to take a few breaths as he stood and patted Stranger's flank, loosened a few straps, and otherwise ignored Sansa. "Some water," he said to the boy, who hastened to comply with the request.
She saw Clegane press his lips into a flat line as he came to collect her. His touch didn't betray any frustration he felt when he lowered her to the ground, his hands lingering on her waist. "Little bird?"
She found she liked the term.
"I don't want you to follow me any more."
Sansa blushed and was struggling to come up with a reply when he added. "I want you to be with me."
