Chapter 11
A/N: Since this includes a few happenings from book canon (though not too many spoilers in there) my apologies if I've messed up timelines. I tried desperately to work out what would be happening at the time my story is based and simply ended up confusing myself more due to the divergence.
They have been on the road for more than two weeks when they finally reach Darry Castle. It has only recently been retaken from the Lannisters and Sansa is relieved that there is no need for battle in order to reach it and cross north onto the Kingsroad. It is a relatively small castle, and with the last of the male Darrys killed by the Lannisters' men in the first siege, it is still in a state of disarray when they arrive.
Sansa does not care about the state of the castle, about how old it is or about any lack of comforts. She is content simply to have a proper roof over her head, to take a proper bath and to sleep in a proper bed, even if she does need to share one with both her mother and Arya.
There are few enough rooms in the castle to accommodate all the Lords that accompany Robb, and it takes some time to finalise all the arrangements even despite the castle's advanced warning of their arrival.
Sandor is to be housed in the barracks with some of the other higher born knights and he leaves them once he has escorted her, Arya and their mother to their shared room. Robb has come to trust him and Sandor knows that he is expected to ensure that there is some order among the men, now that their wariness of him has begun to turn to a grudging respect.
It is an hour before they are all bathed and dressed again and Sansa notices that Arya's eyelids are already drooping as they walk downstairs together to eat. Their pace over the past weeks has been relentless and Sansa is glad for some respite at last. After this last stop they will finally turn towards the north and soon enough there will be battles to be fought with the Ironborn.
Robb is already at the high table along with Talisa and some of his other bannermen, who shift to let the Stark women claim their places. Sansa gives small smiles of thanks and scans the hall, looking for her sworn shield among the men gathered. She finds him sitting with some of the older, higher born knights about halfway down the order of tables. He seems at ease his companions though he does not say much, drinking wine and occasionally make a comment in reply to something.
Satisfied that he is well looked after, Sansa leans forward to see past her mother and address her brother. "Might we stay here for a few days, Robb?" she asks him, "Not for too long of course, but it would give us all time to recover our strength before we turn to the North."
"And time for the Lannisters and their allies to plan an attack upon us." Robb replies grimly, "I've heard that your sworn shield's brother and his companions are raiding in the Saltpans, should they learn of our presence here we can expect trouble. We will stay here for three days, no more."
Sansa's heart skips a beat as she hears Robb mention Gregor Clegane. She still remembers the way he had killed the young knight at the Hand's Tourney, remembers the brutal fury in him as he had attacked first Loras Tyrell, and then Sandor when he had tried to intervene. Most of all she remembers the story of how Sandor received his scars, of his brother's unimaginable cruelty.
"Should we not try to stop him?" she asks Robb timidly, "To protect the people?"
Robb shakes his head wearily, "A band as small as theirs could easily evade our host. We would waste weeks looking for them and likely they would escape us to return to King's Landing. I may leave a small force behind to track them down and dispense justice but we must continue on our way."
"If you are able to send a force to dispense of Gregor Clegane then the people hereabouts will love you for it." Catelyn Stark counsels him, having listened in silence to their conversation until that point. "They will remember it when it comes time to choose sides, just as they will remember that The Mountain that Rides and his men were sent by the Lannisters. If you manage to kill Gregor Clegane then it may even bring the Martells of Dorne to your cause."
A sudden fear grips Sansa as she comes to a realization that her brother is likely to actually pursue this plan. She knows that Sandor hates his brother, that he most likely wishes to kill Gregor himself. If Robb really does send a force to deal with Gregor Clegane then what might Sandor's part be in it?
They were evenly matched on the day of the Tourney but she cannot quell her fear of what might happen to Sandor if he is ever able to properly seek his revenge.
"They deserve to die." Arya announces quietly, with an edge of steel to her voice. "All of them; The Mountain, Polliver, The Tickler, Raff the Sweetling. They all deserve to die."
Neither Robb nor their mother have heard her and Sansa's face blanches as she realizes the implications. Arya should not know those names, nor what those men are capable of. There are so many things that Sansa does not yet know about Arya's time away from them and she realizes that this is one of them. She reaches out and takes her sister's hand under the table, giving it a quick squeeze.
"I'm sure Robb will ensure that they are brought to justice." She tells Arya, trying to give her a reassuring smile.
Arya stares down at her plate, she does not smile back.
Sansa's eyes once again seek out Sandor where he sits further down the hall. She watches him as he listens intently to something one of the knights near him is saying, sees the muscles on the scarred side of his face twitch and one of his hands form a fist and she knows that he has been told.
As if he can feel her eyes on him he looks towards the high table and meets her gaze for a moment before she sees it shift to her brother. There is a steely determination there that she has seen only on a few occasions. Whatever decision he has taken he will not be swayed from it.
Sansa knows that she has already lost him.
Their family is finishing breakfast in the solar which adjoins the Lord's chambers the next morning when the guard on duty asks permission for Sandor Clegane to be admitted to speak with His Grace.
Robb gives his assent as if he had expected this to occur and Sansa knows what must happen now. She wishes that she could have spoken to him in private first. She could have begged Sandor, cried and hoped that he would take pity upon her grief, tried to bind him to her with promises or refused to release him from her service. She could have offered him love on the hope that it would be stronger than the thirst for revenge. Perhaps he suspects that she would have tried to sway him from his decision and that is why he did not seek her out first.
Somehow she knows that none of these actions would do the slightest amount of good. She knows that he must do this to ever have any hope of peace but she cannot help but wish that she could find a way to stop him all the same.
He has lived for this moment, for this possibility, for years on end. While he was in the service of the Lannisters there was no way for him to take his revenge upon Gregor without incurring their ire. Gregor Clegane may be a rabid dog, but he is the Lannister's dog to set upon their enemies and his cruelty suited their purposes perfectly.
With a new master to serve, Sandor may finally pursue justice. Justice for himself, and for the crimes against a father and sister that she has only ever heard whispered about. Sansa cannot deny him the opportunity for that revenge, the opportunity for justice. It is what has kept him alive all these years when he never hoped for anything else. If she were to ask him not to go then it would inevitably drive a inevitably between them that might never be overcome. She would keep him safe and whole but she would lose him by asking this one thing, by asking him to abandon his vengeance.
Sandor glances at her only briefly as he enters, focusing his attention upon her brother. She schools her expression carefully, determined to at least appear strong for his sake.
Robb sets aside his plate and motions for Sandor to speak.
"I've heard that you intend to send a party after my brother, I would like to lead it." Sandor tells him with no preamble.
Robb nods, unsurprised. "I guessed that you might." He replies, "If anyone has a chance of defeating The Mountain that Rides then it is you, though I will be loathe to lose you from my service."
Sandor gives a rasping laugh, "You're assuming I'll die. There's still a possibility I might come back alive."
Robb gives a small smile of acknowledgement to the statement. "I can spare you fifteen men." He tells Sandor, "No mercy should be shown to your brother and his men for their crimes. Should you be successful you are to rejoin us on the road north, you know our route. Be ready to leave by tomorrow morning."
Sandor gives a terse nod before turning to leave, without a glance in Sansa's direction. She wonders if he plans to leave her without any proper farewell, to pretend that he was never anything truly more to her than her sworn shield and protector. She could not stand it if he were to do so, she needs to speak with him before he leaves, to properly acknowledge what it is that she feels. She needs a memory to hold on to, should the worst happen.
When she and Arya exit the room a few minutes later she sees that her fears are for naught. He is waiting outside, waiting so that he might speak to her, she knows immediately. It is Arya who steps forward before Sansa can, looking up at the man she had once professed to hate.
"Make sure that you kill Polliver, Raff and The Tickler too." She tells Sandor seriously, "They deserve to die as much as your brother does."
"And what do you know of them, girl?" Sandor asks her, and Sansa thinks that she can detect a note of concern in his voice.
"They captured us and brought us to Harrenhall," Arya tells him, "They were… torturing the villagers for information. Every day they would take one and… They had taken Gendry and they would have…" She cuts herself off abruptly, looks up at him with that fierce anger on her face that Sansa has now grown used to. "Polliver took my sword, Needle. The sword my brother Jon gave me. If you kill him then please bring Needle back to me."
"Aye, I'll bring your sword back if I can, brat." Sandor tells her, a softness around his eyes.
Arya nods, solemn as a girl of thirteen who has seen too much can be, and then leaves with an explanation of checking on her horse.
Sansa looks up to find Sandor peering down at her, his expression guarded.
There is so much that she wants to say to him, but this is neither the time nor the place for that.
"You are leaving tomorrow morning?" she asks him instead, trying to keep her features strong when all she really wants is to cry her eyes out.
"Aye, with whatever knights your brother chooses to send with me."
She nods, looks down and worries at her skirt with her fingers, clenching it between them. "I knew…" she whispers, "I hoped… but I knew what you would do as soon as I heard the news."
"I thought that you might speak out to try and stop me," he admits as they begin to walk towards the yard.
"I might have if I'd seen you alone," she admits, "But I know that… that you need to do this so that you can… so that…" she is trying to be mature, to be understanding, when really all she wants to do is beg him not to go.
There are tears threatening to spill from her eyes but she represses them. This might be one of her last opportunities to speak with him before he leaves and she will not waste it.
"I do need to do this." He agrees, his eyes fixed upon her. "It's past time that Gregor paid for his crimes. Let him see for himself exactly what monster he created all those years ago when he shoved my face in the coals."
"I wish I could stop you!" Sansa blurts out before she can stop herself, "I don't want you to go, I'm so scared, Sandor, I… I can't…"
"Hush, little bird." He tells her, reaching forward to briefly touch her chin. He gives a dark laugh, "I might not die, after all."
"But you might," she presses, "You might, and I…"
He cuts her off, "And perhaps that would be for the best if I can manage to take him down with me. I'll die and you'll remember me for the best man you ever knew and never have the chance to learn otherwise."
Sansa shakes her head, still trying to quell the threatening tears. "I do not wish to remember you for the best man I ever knew," she whispers, "I would much sooner you returned to my side to prove me wrong if it means that you are alive."
"And then do what?" he gives another harsh laugh. "It might be better for you if I didn't return. At least by killing Gregor I can do something good for the realm, though they may call me kinslayer for it. Better that I'm to die once and for all and be done with it. Better for you, before I pull you down from your high perch."
"Don't push me away before you leave," she pleads with him, "I'll pray every day for your safe return. What would be best for me, would be if you were to stay beside me all the days of my life."
He scoffs, "If you had any buggering sense then you would pray that I die bravely and that your brother finds you a better man than me to look after you. A good man who's able to make you a wife."
He looks down at her; tenderness, grief and resolution all mixed together in his gaze. "I would die for you, little bird, but in the end that's all I'm good for. Sooner or later I might forget all my promises and steal you away from your family."
"Would that be so bad?" she asks him, her voice almost a whisper.
"You would come to hate me for it in the end, when we were living in poverty and you could never see your family again." He tells her, "I've never lied to you, little bird. You know I'm right."
He is not right, he cannot be. How can she possibly know when she will never have the opportunity to find out? She wants to tell him that he's wrong, to insist that she could never hate him, that she loves him more than life itself, but here in a very public hallway where anybody could happen upon them is neither the time nor the place.
He is leaving, whether she likes it or not, and there is a very real chance that he might not return.
"Will you allow me to say farewell to you before you leave?" she asks instead, knowing that he must leave her now to make preparations for his journey.
"And will you offer me another favour to carry as I go to become a bloody kinslayer?" he mocks her gently, "You will only weaken me with your kindness, girl, and I would not muddy your name by doing so."
She would be his strength if she only knew how.
"Do not deny me this," she tells him, as calmly as she is able. "If you are to go then I would farewell you properly. Meet me in the sept an hour before you leave, at that time of the morning there will be nobody else there."
He hesitates and she knows that a part of him wishes to refuse but she does not mean to let him.
"Aye, I'll meet you in the sept before I leave." He tells her, "I'd see your pretty face one last time before I go to die."
He touches her hair, smoothes it with one hand and she sees his mouth quirk in an almost smile before he turns and leaves her.
Everything has happened so fast that Sansa has had no time to process it properly or decide how it is that she truly feels. All she knows is that her stomach is twisted with dread and fear, and that she needs to make him understand why he must come back alive.
She will let him go to do what he must and not try to make him stay. She will wait and pray and not give up hope that he will return.
She will try to bind him to her with something stronger than promises, to ensure that he can find his way back to her safely.
..
Stephie: Not too much time left for what you want to happen :) And Gendry may be back eventually... As for German I ended up giving it up because I found it too difficult to keep the Der/Die/Das straight in my head! It is a difficult language :)
TresOrleans: Thank you :)
Southerngothic: Thank you very much, I'll try to make sure updates keep going up regularly!
To the two guests who left feedback without names, your reviews were very much appreciated as well :)
And for everyone who's favourited, you really made my day when this passed 100 follows, made me very happy!