My hands were covered in a warm substance, thick and dark in the light of the surrounding night. And a fire began to burn around me, as I looked down at my hands again. Blood, not mine, but the Lannister assassin's. His body laid before me, burning into dust.
In the horizon of the black abyss, a dire wolf the color of ashes stared at my hands, and slowly lifted it's face to mine. All I could feel is guilt.
And something incomprehensible.
But I felt it.
Power.
At that moment, the dire wolf opened its huge jaws, devouring the burned body of the assassin. And then it was not the wolf, but I, surrounded by corpses. There was one that burned brighter than the others. Sandor's previously burned face now matched with his body; he laid there, unmoving and silent.
Only a whisper was heard.
"Little Bird..."
My scream must have woken the whole village of Weirlily. Sweat hung to my raggedy dull dress. I was able to calm myself down, reminding myself that it was just a horrid nightmare.
I looked toward the small opening of a window; the sky was dark, and I could smell rain approaching.
How long had I slept?
And then I remembered what day it was.
It was my eighteenth name day, but I felt as if I had aged decades in these past few months.
The gray clouds took me back to the stony walls of Winterfell, where I would usually be woken up by my father and mother, blessings and all. My family would be reunited in the main hall, accompanied by the members of Winterfells council. A great feast would follow; my favorite meals and delicacies were served, including the wonderful lemon cakes I used to covet.
Every year, I would receive countless gifts, quaint little objects from the peasants of the castle to exotic gowns from the south coast of Westeros.
But now, the greatest gift I could receive on this day was staying alive.
The streets outside my window seemed strangely quiet. It seemed to be late in the afternoon.
As I opened the door to the kitchen, I was not very shocked to see the wooden home empty. Fredric and the rest of the village must have been off to their journey to the Winterfell walls. If the gods still had not forsaken me, I prayed for their safe return.
A single bowl laid on the table, covered in a thin handkerchief. It revealed a small loaf of bread and cheese, with a few ripe slices of fruit.
My stomach growled lowly; I hoped this was supposed to be my breakfast, since I could not wait to devour it.
I made sure to remember to thank Fredric for his kindness; it truly knew no bounds.
Hours passed, and the house remained empty. I found my mind wondering where was Sandor and of his safety. I knew he would be alright, but that did not stop me from worrying.
It was near sundown when the door finally opened. I stood up from the table, expecting Fredric, but it was Sandor, holding a few fish on a rod and a small leather bag. His clothes appeared damp; he must have gone to a nearby river.
Immediately I could feel the strange tension between us. He looked at me and quickly turned away, setting the fish on the table.
I was about to summon some courage and address him, but Sandor was quicker.
"If I have to cut another damn potato, I might just cut the whole house down", he proclaimed. I smiled at how grumpy he would become over the simplest things.
"I am just thankful we have some food; Fredric has been too kind," I grinned.
Sandor rebutted with a grumble.
And then silence.
I wanted to converse with him, about anything really. But I could not take the feel of his lips off my mind.
I looked away quickly as my face flushed red.
"Little Bird..."
I looked back at where he stood but was astounded at how close he was to me. He had moved so silently,
Sandor pulled the small leather bag from his belt. I felt like a child again, curious as to see what was in the miniature bag.
He gently pulled the tassels, gently unwrapping a dirty cloth.
A gasp escaped my lips.
A small, but beautiful cream-colored pearl attached to a thin string. He lifted it in his hands, showing the delicate necklace.
"It might not be what a Lady is accustomed to, but I wouldn't forget a Little Birds name day, would I?"
He walked behind me and slowly lifted my braid, revealing the naked skin of my neck. Soon after, I felt the softness of the string and the miniature weight of the pearl on my chest, glistening against the light of the sunset in the room.
It was the most beautiful object I had ever seen.
I had not said a word. My body had frozen at the wonder of the pearl.
"Damn, Little Bird, it isn't that bloody pretty but those damn fish wouldn't let me get a better-"
The tears had overflown my eyelids as I jumped to his arms, holding on to him as hard as I could. I could feel his heart against mine, his large body towering over me. It was then that I felt Sandor breath again, encircling me into his warmth. I could not stop crying.
My body was weak, my limbs sore, but the milky pearl had rejuvenated my strength.
Or was it Sandor...?
My tears fell upon his shoulders as I breathed in the smell of salt and fire.
He stared at me, eyes locked until the space could not be tolerated. His lips found mine, my body suddenly feeling weightless; for that moment, we were not traitors, murderers, nor wanted criminals.
I felt more of a woman than I had ever felt in my entire life.
But the weight soon balanced once again on my shoulders, as the door of
the wooden house opened meekly.
A bewildered, plump woman stood in the doorway holding a small bowl.
The smell of lemon cakes had filled the room.
