Ohmigosh you guys I've been wanting to write this chapter all weekend, but I have work on weekends. I finally got it done today, but it's long and the editing took me awhile. I haven't double-checked it yet, but I wanted to go ahead and post it since I'm excited about it. I'll go back and touch up any nagging grammar issues later that bother me ;)
Y'all are the best, don't forget to review and let me know what you're thinking!
~Sansa~
I thought of little else but Sandor all the next day. His sad childhood, his sister—his awful brother. His kiss. I replayed the moment over and over in my mind, remembering the thrill in my heart when his lips had touched my skin. He wanted me, and not just physically. It made sense now why he'd never tried to hurt me or just take me—why he'd always been there for me, in the capital and now. He cared for me.
And I was starting to care for him, too. I wasn't afraid of the realization, but how could I ever give him what he wanted? My family would never accept a marriage to a man like him. As the daughter of a great house, my marriage would have to be a political tool, used to unite lands and kingdoms. Like my mother before me, I would not have the luxury of marrying for love. Mother always told me that she hadn't loved my father when they'd wed—had hardly known him—but that the love had come in time. I suppose that could happen with whichever lord I was united with.
My thoughts trailed off as I glimpsed a curl of smoke in the distance, wafting into the sky like an airy serpent. Immediately uneasy, I trotted my mare closer to Sandor.
"What do you suppose it is?" I asked, pointing in the direction of the smoke and trying to mask the nervousness in my voice.
"Smoke." He grinned sideways at me and I rolled my eyes.
"Thank you for the clarification," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. The horses plodded along slowly side-by-side, and I waited for him to comment further on it. I knew him well enough by now to know that he liked to get in a joke before taking anything seriously.
He frowned a bit as he studied the gray and black column rising into the air. "Seems too much smoke for a cookfire. We're not too far from Harrenhal." There was something unsaid in that sentence and I glanced at him, trying to make out the underlying meaning.
I cleared my throat. "Why is that relevant? What's at Harrenhal?" I tried to act casual, pushing my growing fear to the back of my mind.
He scowled. "Last I heard, Lord Tywin. And where Lord Tywin goes, my brother isn't far behind."
My breath caught in my throat as I thought of the awful possibility of running into a man like the Mountain. "So the smoke is…?" I swallowed, not wanting to breathe life into the dreadful thought.
"Who knows," he responded gruffly. "Last I heard Gregor and his crew were burning whole villages and holdfasts, lighting the Riverlands on fire. We're a bit east for that, but still." His jaw worked and he clenched the reins tighter than usual.
"Should we be riding toward it then?" I glanced nervously about, my stomach tying itself in knots and my heart beginning to race.
"Looks like whatever fire that was there has smoldered by now. Whoever did it will be gone." He looked sideways at me and added. "Even so, stay close to me."
I nodded, feeling weak and clammy, but trying to not show it. We were close enough now to see that it was definitely too much smoke for a cookfire, and within a few minutes, the trees opened up enough to reveal the remains of a ruined structure.
My heart beat loudly in my ears as we approached cautiously, looking about for any signs of current danger. It had been a small building, likely just a farmer's hovel. The horses picked their way slowly around the blackened earth and stones as we assessed the damage. The bit of rubble in the center of the ruin was the source of the smoke, still smoldering with red hot coals, but I hardly noticed it, for in the next moment I nearly shrieked in horror. Hanging from a tree near the burned structure were two bodies—male and female. They were mutilated and gruesome, with flies covering them, and they looked as if they'd already been food for carrion.
I covered my mouth and gasped, the horror and shock washing over me, bringing with it a fresh wave of fear. "No…" I murmured weakly, unable to believe that someone could have done something so awful.
"Don't look, little bird," he said solemnly, moving his horse away from the sight.
I followed, holding my hand over my quavering stomach before asking tremulously, "Who—who do you think they were?"
He shrugged, "Farmers. Peasants. Anyone really. Wouldn't have mattered to my brother, if this was his work. Looks like it." His voice was bitter and coarse, but I could not fault him for it. I hated his brother too in that moment.
"Should—shouldn't we bury them?" It seemed so awful that they'd just been left there, food for crows. They should at least be able to rest in peace.
"We don't have the tools to do it, and it'd be dangerous to stick around. I want to keep moving." He turned back to look at me, and there was both compassion and understanding in his features. "You have a kind heart, but I need it to keep beating." He smiled at me before settling back around in his saddle and urging Stranger away from the ruin into the wood beyond.
My stomach gave a little thrill at his words, but I was more than happy to move away from the awful scene, and followed without reluctance. With one last glance at the corpses, I breathed a prayer to the Stranger, asking him to take the souls away to be at peace.
-Sandor-
I tried not to let on to her how concerned I was after we left the burned hovel. Someone had definitely been there recently—someone who was no friend of ours. If my brother and his men were in this area, we were in danger and I could not be at ease. I cursed silently, wishing in retrospect that we'd followed the coast up from King's Landing, but there was nothing to be done about it now. The only thing we could do was to be on guard and try not to draw attention to ourselves. Hopefully, we could slip through the countryside unnoticed. I tried to ignore the gnawing sense of foreboding that told me I didn't have that kind of luck.
We made camp that night near a small stream, in a spot as secluded as I could find. I tried to keep the little bird's mind at ease, assuring her that all would be well as we watered the horses and ate some supper. Still, I was on edge. I kept my armor on and propped myself up against a tree when she finally lay down to sleep. The horses were left saddled in case there was need to flee, and I would stay awake as long as possible, keeping watch. I was used to sentry duty and had the ability to catch bits of sleep while still in a highly alert state.
I kept my mind occupied with thoughts of her. It was always thoughts of her lately. She'd taken me over, body and soul, and though a part of me was nervous and reluctant to give in to it, another part wanted nothing more than to fall completely at her mercy. Love was a strong word and I'd never felt it before for a woman, so I couldn't say that I knew exactly what it felt like, or whether I'd recognize it. I just knew that I needed to be near her, needed to care for her. I just needed her. Sansa was everything I lived for now.
She must know by now how I felt about her. I wasn't masking my desire anymore, either physically or emotionally—it was too difficult to maintain that façade around her, especially since she made me want to bare my soul. For all the good it would do me. I watched her sleep as I'd done many times now—it was the only time I could gaze at her continuously without interruption. I could study her features, her hair, the curves of her body. I could allow my longing to fill me and my imagination to run wild. My thoughts were my own and there she could be mine.
I leaned my head against the tree and closed my eyes, my forearms resting on my knees as I exhaled my frustration. These thoughts, these desires would only torture me. I could never have her—she knew it as well as I did. She was out of reach for me and always would be.
Something sounded in the distance and immediately I sat up alert, leaning forward slightly to listen. Within a moment I heard it again—movement and the sounds of voices from men on horseback. Shit. I glanced nervously at our mounts where they were hobbled against a tree, hoping against hope that they could remain silent and we would not be found. I didn't want to think about what would happen if we were—I was just one man, one sword, and she was one of the most beautiful women in Westeros. She still slept peacefully beside me, unaware of the approaching danger.
The voices and sounds were getting nearer and I cursed inwardly. They must be tracking us—they must have known we were there. I moved stealthily closer to the little bird and touched her shoulder gently, hoping she would wake up silently. She stirred and blinked her eyes at me, moaning a question until I put my finger against my lips. Her eyes grew wide with fear and she sat up suddenly, looking around frantically for the danger. I slowly and silently drew my sword, peering into the darkness for signs of our enemies as I got to my feet. I didn't have to look for long.
The hoofbeats of their horses grew nearer and in a moment their ominous shapes emerged from the darkness. Ten men or more approached our camp, and several eyes fell immediately on Sansa with lecherous glares and cruel grins. She scrambled to her feet and moved behind me, terror etched in her features. One of the men moved his horse just feet in front of me and called behind him, "Found 'em! And just our luck, it's the Hound."
"Yeah, and what do you want with me?" I growled, my sword extended in front of me in defense. "I'm just passing through these parts, not looking for trouble."
Coarse laughter erupted and one of the men responded mockingly, "Hear that? He ain't lookin' for trouble."
A filthy man in the front with half his teeth missing cocked his head and asked, "Who's that pretty thing you're hidin'?" He glanced at the man next to him with a grin, "Seems he's taken him the prettiest little whore for himself." Edging his horse closer, he leered at Sansa with his mouth open and his tongue moving around in it suggestively.
My blood boiled in my veins, but I had to keep my head. "No one needs to die," I growled. "Leave us be and we'll be on our way."
More laughter. "The Hound doesn't want to kill anyone? That's no fun." More horses moved in around us out of the darkness, and one shape caused my stomach to turn with its unmistakable size. My worst nightmare was being realized. No matter what I did or where I went, he would always come back to take from me—to cause me pain. I hated him with every fiber of my being.
Gregor's voice was like thunder, low and rumbling—threatening. "The little pup is lost in the woods." He swung a huge leg over his horse as he dismounted with a sickening sneer on his face. "Looks like you brought me a present." He eyed Sansa with a lustful glare and I heard her gasp behind me. "Always a dutiful brother." He stepped closer to us as his men began to dismount and follow suit.
I turned slightly to Sansa and spoke with urgency under my breath, "Get to the horses and run!" I heard her scrambling behind me, and then everything happened all at once.
I roared and charged toward my brother, but my attack was preempted by one of his men who fell in on me from the side. I parried and slashed through his shoulder, hearing the sweet crunch of bone and flesh as he fell at my feet. Several men had immediately pursued Sansa, and I moved to stop one of them, swinging my blade and severing one of his legs above the knee. His screams pierced the night and were joined in the next moment by Sansa's as the other men reached her. A shout of rage erupted from my throat, and I took down two more of my brother's men while edging closer to Sansa before they overwhelmed me.
Five men surrounded me and I whirled, frantically searching for an opening, a weakness, before I heard my brother bellow, "Keep him alive. I want him to watch." He moved toward Sansa, and in the next moment my knees were kicked in from behind, and my sword wrenched from my grasp. I struggled and fought, but to no avail. There were too many.
Sansa was shrieking with sobs, kicking and flailing against the men who held her and were groping her in the process. Their hands were down the front of her dress and pulling her skirts up to squeeze her thighs and grab her between her legs. "Leave her be!" I shouted from my knees, my heart twisting in agony at her cries, watching her being assaulted and helpless to stop them. In the next moment my face exploded in pain as one of the men landed a blow to my jaw. My head was spinning, my vision clouding, but still I jerked against them, throwing one to the ground with me. Sansa's cries echoed in my ears and I fought to get to her, but they maintained control over me, subduing me with their weight. One of them procured a rope and I was swiftly bound hands and feet as I cursed and shouted.
Gregor snatched Sansa from the disappointed men by her upper arm and dragged her nearer to me. I was on my knees, my arms bound behind my back and my feet roped together with three men holding me down. I clenched my jaw in rage, my insides coiling at his hands upon her. Her terrified eyes met mine in one horrible moment and I knew I'd failed her. I couldn't protect her just like I couldn't protect Ayla. Gregor grinned down at me menacingly and growled, "This your pretty little woman?" He shoved her in front of him, pulling her hair sideways to expose her neck to him and breathing lustily along her skin. She clenched her eyes shut in a muffled sob and tensed as the tears flowed down her cheeks.
My jaw worked silently and my chest heaved as I glared at him, all of my hatred written in my face. I was afraid to say anything that might provoke him to do worse than I already knew he would do. I was helpless to save her from him, and I hated him for it. I hated myself for it.
His mouth moved close to her ear and he rasped into it, "She's mine now." Sansa choked and writhed in his grasp, begging and sobbing for him to let her go. He reached around and tore her dress open in the front, exposing her breasts in one powerful movement. She screamed and struggled against his hold on her as he whipped her around to face him, fondling her violently with his huge hands. He pressed her body against him as one hand pulled her skirts up and began groping between her legs, ignoring her shrieks and sobs.
"You fucking cunt!" I shouted, choking with rage and struggling against my restraints. "Piece of shit, get your hands off her!" Sansa continued fighting and shoving at him, and she managed to land a blow to his face. His expression twisted cruelly and in the next instant he backhanded her, sending her to the ground, unconscious.
"No!" I shouted, struggling to get to her though I knew it was no use. Her little body lay there helplessly, exposed and violated as he began pulling at his belt, removing his weapons and reaching into his pants to pull his cock free. He moved closer to where she had fallen and went down to his knees, roughing her legs open violently and throwing her skirts up to her waist. She no longer resisted, no longer screamed and everything had grown quiet except the sounds of his scuffling and my struggles.
He had won, again. Taken what I loved from me. My life was nothing but an endless struggle to maintain hope and a will to live after he hurt me and stripped me of everything worth living for. My vision clouded and I roared in helpless, enraged agony as he moved on top of her, squeezing one breast as he positioned himself to take her.
The sound of an arrow embedding itself in leather and flesh broke the relative silence, and one of the men beside me fell to his knees. Shouts of surprise rose up around me and out of the corner of my eye I saw men moving in with swords flashing. More arrows were loosed and Gregor grunted angrily before moving away from Sansa, rearranging his pants and reaching for his weapon. I almost couldn't believe it, and for a moment I just stayed on my knees in shock, trying to process the turn of events.
The men who'd guarded me left to engage in the fight almost instantly—I was still bound, but alone. To my right horses screamed, swords clashed and men shouted. Arrows still whizzed through the air, but I tried to focus. If we were lucky we might get out alive.
"Sansa!" I shouted at her still form, crumpled in the dirt where he'd left her, and prayed she would awaken. I glanced toward our horses where they screamed and pulled at their tethers, but they were unguarded. "Sansa!" I called again, trying to shuffle closer to her against my restraints.
She stirred softly, moaning in confusion and my heart leapt with relief. "Sansa!" I called again, just as an arrow whizzed by her, jolting her back into awareness. She seemed to remember suddenly what had occurred and frantically began hyperventilating and grasping at her garment to cover herself. She looked around in a panic until her eyes fell on me.
"Sansa, cut me free!" I said in a hushed voice, hoping to not attract the attention of the men who fought near us. I glanced quickly to my right and saw Gregor swiping through a man in one blow, just as another man with a flaming sword charged him from behind. I knew that flaming sword; I'd seen it once before. It belonged to Thoros of Myr.
"Sandor!" Sansa choked as she scrambled along the ground to me, eyes wide, drawing my attention back to her. Her hair was full of leaves and dirt and there was a huge red welt on one side of her face. She clenched her dress together in front of her as she assessed my restraints.
"My knife, in my belt! Quickly!" I nodded with my head to where she'd find it and she snatched it out of the sheath, her little white hands shaking violently. She needed both to work the knife properly and I was grateful that common sense won out over her modesty as she released her torn dress and sawed vigorously at the ropes binding me. I couldn't help seeing her naked breasts, but I averted my eyes out of respect for her. I would never be the man my brother was.
In a few moments my hands were free and I snatched the knife from her, moving to the binds at my feet. "Run to the horses, now!" She clutched her dress together once more, glancing over her shoulder at the fight briefly before heeding my instruction. The rope fell away from my ankles and I scrambled to my feet, snatching up my sword from where it had fallen during the fight and ran after her.
One of Gregor's men caught sight of us fleeing and moved to stop me. He charged at me from my left side and I stepped back slightly, allowing him to careen past me as my sword sliced through his back, knocking him to the ground. When I looked up I saw Sansa struggling with her mare, and in an instant I knew it was hopeless. The beast had taken a stray arrow in the side and was screaming in pain and terror.
"Leave her!" I roared, grabbing Stranger's reins and freeing him in a swift movement, before swinging myself into the saddle. Sansa looked unsure for a moment, loathe to leave the mare to die in pain, but she knew how dire our situation was. She only hesitated a moment before she snatched her bag off the saddle quickly and reached up to me with her free hand. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I pulled her almost effortlessly into the saddle in front of me. "Hold onto me," I rasped, turning my horse abruptly. Her arm reached around me tightly as she sat sideways in the saddle, her face against my chest, her other arm still clenching the fabric at her breast. The battle raged before us between Gregor's men and the Brotherhood Without Banners, but we hardly noticed it. I dug in my heels and Stranger bolted into the darkness.
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We rode all night. I'd never before been more grateful for my horse—for his endurance, intelligence and surefootedness. We couldn't ride hard forever, but he carried the two of us longer than any other beast would have been able, and I patted his mane in appreciation. We had to put as much distance between us and my brother as possible. I would never go through that again—never allow her to be in that situation again.
When I finally slowed our pace to avoid killing my horse, I looked down at the little bird where she was curled up against me. She'd dozed in and out of sleep during the night, never speaking a word. There had been times where she shook against me, trembling violently with sobs, and my heart had ached for her. Now she was silent and still, and I thought she must be sleeping again. I reached down and stroked her hair with one hand, pulling the sticks and leaves from it that had entangled there during her ordeal. She looked up at me and I pulled back slightly, surprised to find her awake. I could just make out the outline of her face in the darkness—there was a glint of tears in her eyes, and streaks on her face where they'd left their trails. Her cheek was swollen and beginning to bruise where that bastard had struck her. My jaw clenched as I allowed the rage to course through me again, fully impressing upon me how much I loathed my brother.
I tucked her against my chest, holding her tightly to me. Nothing would make me let go of her. "I'm sorry, little bird," I whispered against her head, stroking her arm softly with one hand.
She began to shake again, the sobs tearing through her, unchecked and raw. Her moans of anguish tore at my heart, but I let her weep against me—violent, wrenching sobs as I held her and stroked her arm. The images of her struggling against him kept appearing in my mind and I had to force myself to push them away. I'd never endured anything so torturous, yet I could only imagine what it had been like for her. She cried until there was nothing left, but still I held her.
It was nearing dawn—the horizon became more visible every moment—and I was starting to feel as if I couldn't ride another mile when a cultivated field slowly came into view as we crested a hill. Beyond the field I could just barely make out a small hut in the distance.
We were both exhausted and aching—the position in which we were forced to ride had been even more uncomfortable than a usual night spent in the saddle. I didn't care at that point who the farm belonged to, as long as it provided some shelter and relative safety. There would be other people—people who could at least watch out for danger while we chanced some rest. I could offer to pay them.
As we approached the small building, I saw a woman rush inside from where she'd been tending to her animals. A moment later she appeared again, this time behind a man who wielded a pitchfork and pointed it at us as we walked closer on Stranger.
"Hold it right there!" he shouted, trying to appear fiercer than he was. "You're on my land!"
When I didn't respond, his eyes settled on the woman in my arms, torn and beaten, and his face softened.
I pulled Stranger to a stop in front of them and spoke hoarsely. "I won't cause you any trouble, but we were attacked on the road. The men nearly raped my wife." I glanced down at Sansa who had fallen asleep again in my arms, then back at the man. "We just need a place to rest our heads for a few hours. I have coin."
The man and woman exchanged glances and she nodded slightly. He lowered the pitchfork and looked up at me. "Aye, we'll give you some shelter then and no need for payment. These are dangerous times and we'll be happy to help anyone who needs it. Long as you ain't bringing no trouble with you."
I nodded gratefully, and he helped me unhorse while I supported Sansa in my arms. When my feet settled on the ground she stirred and opened her eyes, blinking dazedly at the people who were now ushering us into the small hut.
"Tsk, she's been hurt, poor dear," the woman fussed, glancing repeatedly behind her as she walked, taking in Sansa's ravaged state. She led us to a little room off the main area which was separated by a hanging bit of fabric. The woman pulled it aside revealing a simple straw mattress which lay on the floor and was covered by a blanket. "Lay her down there, I'll bring some wet cloths for her wounds," she said, before she disappeared back into the main room.
I went to one knee and gently laid the little bird onto the bed. Her dress was still clutched together in her hand and I pulled the blanket up over her, allowing her to relax. When her eyes met mine, she smiled weakly and said, "Thank you, Sandor." They were red and swollen from crying, and the bruise on her cheek had turned purple. I stroked her face gently, full of gratefulness that she had been spared the fate that I'd feared she'd meet tonight.
"I need to tend to the horse, but I'll come back after," I said softly, just as the woman returned and rebuked me.
"No need for that, my husband will see to yer horse. You stay here and help her. You both can get some rest, and don't you worry." She carried a bowl of water which she now set on a small table. She reached in with both hands and wrung out a cloth before handing it to me.
"You clean her up and make sure she gets some sleep. We'll give you some privacy." She nodded kindly and backed out of the little room.
I turned back to Sansa and began smoothing the warm, damp cloth across her face, gently cleaning the dirt and tears from it. I tried to move lightly around her bruise, but she still sucked in her breath, wincing at my touch.
I clenched my jaw as I looked down into her face, the face that he'd dared lay a hand on. "One day I'll kill him. I'll make him pay for what he's done."
She put her hand on mine and managed a weak smile as her beautiful blue eyes looked deep into my own. "I don't understand how you can be brothers," she said softly. "You're nothing like him." She reached up tentatively and lightly touched the burned skin on my face.
I pulled away, instinctively—I'd never allowed anyone to touch me there. Her eyebrows contracted, but she persisted, reaching once more and gently stroking the skin. Her fingertips travelled along my scars slowly as she searched my face, and I felt my heart twist again inside me. Her eyes locked with mine once more and she whispered, "You saved me again. Thank you, Sandor."
My throat tightened, but I managed to smile back at her. "Get some rest, little bird." I gently pulled her hand from my face and held it, stroking it tenderly.
She looked down and swallowed, nodding mechanically. She didn't meet my gaze as she asked, "Will you stay with me?" Her hand trembled in mine, and when she looked up, there were tears in her eyes again. "Please?" Her voice broke.
How could I ever resist her? I would give her anything she asked for, now and always.
"Aye, I'll stay with you." I removed my armor and boots and crawled onto the bed behind her. She rolled on her side facing me, and scooted into my chest, still shaking. I put my arm around her and drew her toward me, stroking the top of her head to offer reassurance.
"It's all right, little bird. You're all right now."
It was several long minutes before she'd stopped trembling involuntarily, and once I heard her steady, even breathing, I finally relaxed and closed my eyes. I allowed the gratefulness to wash over me—she'd been spared the rape that I had thought was inevitable and I'd been able to get her to safety. She was in my arms, where she belonged, and I would protect her until the day I died.
"I'll keep you safe," I whispered, as I kissed the top of her auburn head. Then I joined her in sleep.
