Alright, so I wrote 4 chapters of this and then literally stared at the computer screen for 3 days, having NO idea how to continue…I must have written 42 million version of this damn thing, but I finally got something out that I'm willing to publish, so!
For that last chapter I had the most "guest" reviewers I've had for any chapter, so this one actually goes out to all of them! Because I think that's very cool :)
Any second now, any second and she'll realize she'll come to her senses and pull away. She couldn't possibly really love you. He was forcing himself to ignore her warm, soft mouth and her silky hair in his hands. He wasn't moving all that much, for fear of losing himself in the kiss. This was just a test, and it wasn't lost on him that she wasn't kissing him back, so he prepared himself for the inevitable blow.
Instead, her hands snaked up into his hair and her tongue came out to run along his bottom lip. His shock was fleeting as his brain completely gave over to one thought: she's kissing me back.
His grip tightened on her as he moved one hand down to her back and walked them backwards until she was against a tree. He couldn't pull her flush against him because of her belly, but somehow he liked cradling the little thing in between them. He opened his mouth and plunged his tongue into hers, taking up all the sweetness he could until she came to her senses. She tasted amazing. He could happily spend the rest of his life doing just this.
She smiled into the kiss as he did that, gleefully battling his tongue with her own. When she moaned into his mouth he pressed even tighter into her and growled back. He could not get enough of her as he ran his hands over her body and devoured her mouth. When she pulled back it was only to breathe; she kept her hands in his hair and her forehead against his.
"You believe me now?" He chuckled and gave her a small smile before pecking her lips again. Somehow, he believed her.
"You could do so much better than me," he whispered.
She pulled back and looked him in the eye, her jaw set in a hard line. "Life isn't a fairy story." He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
"You keep trying to make me into a character in a fairy story, that runs off with some fucking prince and lives a perfect life." Sandor couldn't help but snort when she swore. She looked angry that he did at first, but then he immediately pulled a contrite face and she softened. "I don't want a fairy tale life, Sandor," she said gesturing to her belly, "that ship sailed 6 months ago. I want…the right life."
He shook his head slowly. "You're not allowed to be right" he said with a small smile.
"It is foreign to me," she said smiling back.
He finally took a step back and looked at her. Could she really be right? Could they actually have the right life together? Everything he'd been taught up until that point said no, but her and her damn smile and optimism gave him something he'd never felt before. Hope.
He knew he shouldn't hope. He knew a thousand things could take her away from him. But damnit, he wanted a life with her, he wanted that child to call him "daddy," and he wanted her to be right. He yearned for it so painfully he almost couldn't take it.
And now she gave him hope.
He looked down at her face, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking past his shoulder to where his brother's body still lay. He'd honestly forgotten about him in that moment. He brought a hand up to her face to bring it back to his.
"He's gone, Little Bird. He'll never hurt you again." He worried that she would still feel pain at the thought of his monstrous brother, but she just looked at him clearly confused.
"I know that," she said as she moved her hand up to mirror his. "Do you?"
He dropped his hands and pulled hers down as well. "Of course, I…"
"Don't you dare lie to me," she said before he could finish. And for some reason, he couldn't. He could not describe how he felt. And he couldn't lie to her and say everything was fine.
"I'll give you a minute," she said before walking back in the direction of their inn. He followed her as she went, so he caught the look she gave back at him. The loving, trusting look. He kept that image in his mind long after she'd retreated beyond the trees. It was a better image than the one that awaited him when he turned around.
His life since he had been 6 years old had been about killing his brother. That was all he thought about for hours, even days at a time. He dreamed about sneaking into his room and slitting his throat in his sleep. He thought about disemboweling him slowly and painfully. He thought about pushing him off a cliff. He thought about meeting him in the field of battle. What was he going to think about now?
The only goal he'd ever had his entire life was complete. Finished. The only thing that gave his life purpose was gone, and he didn't know how to find a new one.
He sat there contemplating for a long time until he heard rustling and twigs snapping. Sansa emerged from where she had walked away carrying a shovel. He still hadn't turned back to look at his brother. She raised her eyebrows at that, but didn't comment.
"What's that for?" he said gesturing to the shovel. Instead of answering, she walked by him and stared at the body.
"Look at him," she whispered.
Against his better judgment, he did. He turned and stared at his brother's corpse. And he felt the sting of loss—not for that monster, but for himself and Sansa. She wordlessly shoved the shovel at him, but instead of taking it he gave her a disbelieving look.
"You want me to bury this fucker?"
"I want you to leave him to rot" she said with aggression that he had not thought her capable of 6 months ago. But her tone softened when she continued, "but you…you need to bury your past."
It took him close to an hour, but Sansa stayed there watching him. He could feel her emotions boring a hole in his back, but he kept working. Like it or not, she was right. He needed to do this.
When he finished the grave, neither of them marked it. He simply dropped the shovel on the mound of dirt and stood beside her. When he looked up the sky was almost dark. Sansa slipped her hand into his and pulled him backwards toward the inn.
"Come on," she started to say as he turned to follow her, "I need to tell you a story."
A/N: I have no idea if they have shovels in this universe…lets just pretend they do, yes? Gravediggers have to dig with something...