Sansa's bed chamber is empty when Sandor arrives during the third quarter of the moon. Drunk and exhausted from battle, he sinks down onto her feather mattress and inhales deeply, relishing her lavender scent on the downy coverlets. Watching the shadows play off the flickering candlelight on the limestone walls, he eagerly anticipates her arrival as he settles in. Warm and inviting, Sandor allows his eyes to close and with the copious amount of wine in his stomach, sleep easily overtakes him.
Shouting comes from the alcove and stairwell to Sansa's room, jolting Sandor from his slumber. Tumbling off the far side of the bed, he draws his short sword, waiting patiently. The voices fade off into the distance; Sandor allows himself to relax once more. Where can she be? She promised she would stay here; maybe she's changed her mind after all. It is his darkest fear, that Sansa will refuse to leave the luxuries of King's Landing behind for a life of hardship with him; unable to bear it he resolutely pushes the thought from his mind.
His heart aches painfully for her and yet Sandor would not blame her if she decides not to go with him. As much as he longs for her, he realizes she will be in grave danger accompanying a craven turncoat of the Lannisters. No doubt they would spent an indeterminate amount of time as fugitives with untold dangers awaiting them during their travels through the battled scarred region. Delicate, beautiful and refined, Sandor knows in his heart Sansa was never meant for the likes of him, the scarred second son of a minor house. His love for her has become all-consuming, reaching into the depths of his soul and Sandor would find it impossible to resent her if indeed she has changed her mind.
Glancing around the distinctly feminine room, his eyes fall on the simple doll her father had given her just before they left Winterfell. Ned's solemn deep voice echoes in Sandor's ears. "I need a man to watch after my dear girl and protect her in King's Landing. You can see she is a delicate and kind child, innocent and trusting. I am asking you to do this-if not for my sake or the prince's-then for her own. Swear to me, Clegane by the old gods and the new-you will protect my beloved Sansa-swear it."
In his current condition he is not sure if it is the wine playing tricks on his mind or if Lord Eddard is reaching out to him from the afterlife; Sandor nevertheless feels compelled to answer the unseen specter. Holding her doll in his bloodied hands for a moment, he rasps softly, "Aye I will watch over her-I keep no gods Lord Eddard but I swear by my sister's grave I will continue to protect Sansa-you have my word." Short shuffling footsteps approach the room; hiding in the closet, Sandor peeks through the louvered doors and waits once more.
The Little Bird's foreign handmaiden swiftly enters, latching the door behind her. "Hound?" her soft voice breaks the silence; remaining still, he watches her carefully look around the room. Spying the rumpled bed linen, she smirks and continues, "I have a message from my lady for you. Are you here, Hound?" Emerging from the closet, Sandor raises his finger to his lips. "Aye woman-no need to shout! You voice sets my head to pounding-what do you want?" he growls, grabbing his throbbing head with both hands, slumping back onto the bed.
Giggling softly, Shae pours water into the wash basin and wrings out a washcloth. Narrowing her eyes at him, she passes the rag to him."Clean yourself up, Clegane-you're covered in soot and blood. Sansa desires me to say she will arrive shortly; she is detained by the queen at present." Raising her eyebrow, Shae archly continues, "I hope you haven't been toying with her my lord-she can barely contain her excitement. Someone has given her the notion she is to leave with you tonight."
Grunting, Sandor averts his eyes, instead focusing on intently scrubbing his hands and face. Does he dare believe her words-Sansa truly wants to leave with him? Earlier she caressed his face as she spoke her promise, the depth of her adoration shining in her lovely eyes had taken his breath away as she gazed at him. Not waiting for a reply Shae eyes him suspiciously, "I know your kind Clegane."
Scoffing, Sandor grits his teeth as he faces her. "Aye I'm sure you do at that-don't play the dutiful servant with me. I know Tyrion keeps you here to warm his bed." Taken aback, Shae collects herself before answering him. "Nevertheless, you best not be planning to take her innocence and then leave her here for the Lannisters! I don't care if you drag her kicking and screaming, you must get her away from Joffrey-we both know she will not survive here much longer." Impressed she did not bother denying it, Sandor grins at her. "Why does it matter so much to you anyway?"
Defiantly Shae draws closer, lifting her chin as she spits out her words."Sansa-well let's just say she reminds me of someone I once cared for and leave it at that." Nodding, Sandor chuckles at her sudden change in demeanor. "Fair enough. Anything else?" Swallowing hard, Shae looks down, choosing her words carefully. "This is...for the two of you." Shae speaks quietly, handing him a glass jar full of a deep green powdery substance. "Please for the love of the Seven Clegane-make her drink it until you both are safe." Unscrewing the lid, Sandor inhales the heady scent, bursting into harsh laughter as he recognizes the earthy aroma of moon tea. "Quiet! Someone will hear you!" Shae reproves, though a knowing smile spreads across her face.
Sobering up, Sandor's face twitches into a lopsided grin and he tightens the lid back on the jar. Struggling for words, he is ill-prepared to express his gratitude for this precautionary gift. "You're a smart one at that. I owe you one-we both do." he finally says, then reaches into his belt. Withdrawing a abalone handled knife, he wipes it off on his pant leg, then hands it to Shae. "Take it, just in case the castle is overrun-you can protect yourself, at least. I dare say you already know how to use it." Laughing softly, Shae accepts his offering, tucking it into her sash. "Aye, you're a smart one yourself." Turning to leave, she smiles and says, "I will say a prayer for you both-who knows, the gods may listen to a sinner after all!" Barking out a laugh, he shakes his head. "Watch yourself, now." Winking, she replies, "I always do, my lord," before closing the door behind her.
Settling back onto the foot of the bed, Sandor gazes out as the green glow of wildfire consumes Blackwater Bay. Reassured by Shae's words, Sandor smiles in spite of himself. Soft footsteps patter on the stone steps outside and quickly Sansa enters the room, slamming the door and bolting the lock behind her. Sighing with relief, she leans against it for a moment before walking toward the chest of drawers. "The ladies starting to panic?" Sandor rasps to announce his presence.
Whirling around in fear, she gasps then quickly smiles as she recognizes it is Sandor waiting for her. Running into his arms, the couple tumbles back onto her bed as Sansa covers his face and neck with kisses, ignoring the smokey stench of wildfire that permeates his person. "Thank the gods you are safe my love! I prayed for you all night!" Tears of joy cover her cheeks and Sansa finds herself running her hands through his hair, unable to stop touching him in her sudden relief. "What are you doing here already? I expected you would still be on the battlefield."
Holding her tightly in his arms, Sandor is once again consumed by doubt and insecurity. Is this beautiful highborn maiden before him really prepared to give up a life of luxury for him, the scarred Hound? The precariousness of his position overshadows her undeniable affection for him. "Not here for long, I'm going...north might be, could be," he sneaks a sideways glance her direction, trying to gauge her response to his words. Pulling away Sansa frowns suddenly, confusion clouding her lovely features. Has he changed his mind after all? Is he not taking her with him?
Searching his face for an answer she sees longing, desperation, even despair combined with intense love and desire darkening his slate gray eyes. Understanding spreads through her mind: unwilling to assume she is willing to leave, he needs to hear her say once again that she loves him and chooses to go with him, no matter the risk before he takes her away. Sandor's heart pounds with fear stronger than he ever experienced in battle as he shyly offered his next words, "I could take you with me, I'll keep you safe. Do you want to go home?" Sickened with worry she will reject him, Sandor waits for her reply on tenterhooks.
Moments pass as Sansa stares into his eyes, her heart filling with love for this brave honorable man, who loves her with fierce devotion and yet his lifetime of insecurity still renders him unsure of her commitment to him. Caressing his face tenderly, she whispers, "I want nothing more than to be with you, my love...to spend my life loving you. Of course I will go with you! Did you ever doubt it?" Tears fill her eyes, pained with the knowledge he deeply fears she will no longer want him once she is free. Reassuring him of her love the only way she knows how, she covers his mouth in a deep kiss, slowly running her tongue along his own, eliciting a guttural moan from him in response.
The serious expression returns to his face as he pulls away from her. "Sansa, listen to me-I can't take you for my own and then hand you over to some fucking lord so your brother will have more men for the war, understand? I want you for my wife or not at all-damn it, I can't bear it any other way." Laughing bitterly, he looks down at their entwined fingers as he speaks. "You and I both know your family will never allow you to marry a low born Lannister dog. You will lose your family if you go with me, is that what you want?"
"Sandor, you may find this hard to believe but though I do not wish to be alienated from my family I have made my choice-I only want to be with you." Sighing, she covers his hands with hers and kisses each tenderly before continuing. "Robb left me here with Joffrey to pursue his war-he is a king now and makes decisions accordingly. You must not think I am unaware of how things will go with him, should I return to them while he is king of the north. Believe me when I say we need not go to my family my love. I will follow you wherever you go," she whispers next to his ear before continuing to kiss him.
Does she truly understand what leaving with him will mean for her? No more servants and fancy meals? No one waiting on her? Marrying him will affect her in ways she cannot understand. "Even if I had never served the enemies of your family, I am not ignorant to the fact that I am far too low born for you. You will lose your station being with me, have you thought of that?" Sansa places her finger on his lips, gently silencing him. "Don't speak of yourself like this, Sandor. I am no longer that little girl you remember in Winterfell and I am through allowing others to make decisions for me. I refuse to accept being passed around as a bargaining tool, sold to the highest bidder so my brother can secure the allegiance of others. I love you and more than anything I want be your wife, if you will have me," she answers softly before kissing him once more.
Sandor pulls away from her, searching her eyes carefully, "Will I have you?" he asks incredulously. "Fuck girl, you are all I ever wanted." Pulling her tightly to his chest Sandor chokes back his tears, wishing he had the words to express his feelings to her. "We'll marry as soon as we can, I promise." Pausing, he asks, "Are you ready to give up everything you are entitled to for me, truly Sansa?" He feels his strength failing him, still fearing her reply despite her reassuring words.
"I no longer care for any of that nonsense-let us leave it behind us when we go and speak of it no more. Whatever may come, we'll face it together-I will gain everything I ever wanted with you my love. Yes, a thousand times, yes, I will go with you and be your wife," she laughs, throwing her arms around him. "You have honored your vow to me when no one else did and I love you for it. I am sure my father is pleased in the afterlife-he will help us, I know it!"
Joy mingled with disbelief fills Sandor's heart; it is the first time he has ever known such love and happiness in his entire life. "Then let's get the fuck out of here Little Bird," he growls, kissing her deeply and holding her close before whispering, "I love you Sansa." Smiling she whispers her reply in his ear, "I am yours as you are mine, Sandor. I will love you forever." Squeezing her close, he places a tender kiss on her lips before leading her out the door of her cage one last time to their freedom-and their future.
The End-Epilogue to Follow :)