CHAPTER 21

Sansa

This has been the beginning of a more peaceful period of time for me. The Queen acts as if I don't exist and the King, being occupied with his new betrothed, hardly gives me attention now. Because of this, I don't get beaten anymore, and I feel relieved too that these two knights who were the ones to beat me are dead... I feel a secret pleasure at knowing what really happened to them, and that nobody at court suspects that I know. I don't feel as stupid or as naive as I'd felt before. I'm left pretty much alone, except for the occasional invitations which Margery extends to me, and it feels nice to be in the company of women, except for the terrible Queen of Thorns. But even she behaves differently toward me now; she often looks at me with a speculative gleam in her eyes and doesn't batter me with questions anymore.

I haven't encountered the Hound in the halls or the godswood. I only have seen him at the court functions or following Joffrey, and when I do see him, his face looks impassive and he hardly glances at me; when he does, his gaze is neutral and doesn't linger long. He has resumed his sworn shield duties, and I often wondered if he was well enough to start them. But then peace has returned to our realm; supplies and food have started to be carried by ships on the waterways, so the city has enough to eat again, calming the citizens. Everybody feels triumphant and relieved that the battle has been won; making new plans, new alliances, rebuilding, so in that quiet lull, there not much need for the Hound to have to defend his liege from danger.

Except for this encounter with him on the Serpentine, he seems to have changed since the battle, being more subdued. Every time that I catch myself worrying about him, I chide myself for what a fool I am to care about his state, but then this is my nature. Before the Blackwater battle, I remember that I had even prayed for him, for his soul to be gentled. What a fool I am!

On one afternoon, a bannerman is complaining about his daughter been attacked by his neighbor's men, and the King listens with a bored expression on his face. Lord Tywin has been away for two days, so there has been no Hand to take care of this for him, and he has a hard time trying to conceal his intolerance, his indifference for matters pertaining to people whose concerns are so below his interests. Like insects to him.

I see the Hound standing at the front of the dais as usual, and our gazes cross for a moment, his seeming like he doesn't really see me. I turn my head; but an instinct keeps my gaze fixed on him from the corner of my eye and I spy him looking at me with the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then I realise that he has been hiding his glances from me since the encounter, and for a reason I cannot explain it fills me with merriness. Not being used to this mood, I can't help letting out giggles behind my hand, and the court turns completely silent at these sounds. I look up to see all eyes fixed on me in cold disapproval; most of all the eyes of the King. He lets the silence go on as long as it takes to make me afraid, and I am. What was I thinking of? Then he starts to speak in the soft tone of voice that always precedes a punishment.

"I would really like to know what you find so amusing about the fate of this poor young girl, Lady Stark."

You hypocrite, you didn't even care a second ago. Somehow, this thought gives me courage.

"I don't know why I laughed", I reply in a little girl's voice. "Your grace, you know how stupid I am, and I feel that I'm getting even more stupid every day, your Highness.'

This is not what Joffrey had expected, and I see first a look of astonishment spreading on his face, followed by a puzzled frown. Then he regains his composure.

"Then it would help the court if you remained silent, as to spare us more of your stupidity."

"Please your grace, I meant no harm. If your grace would have it in him to forgive me, I would gladly submit to punishment."

The Hound's mouth has started to twitch at the King's words, and now he's erupting in growls, scowling at me.

"Stop this, girl!"

Joffreys crows triumphantly at this, a grin spreading on his lips, and then his face turns icy cold.

"Be warned of this, Lady Stark. Next time when you don't behave in a respectful manner, I'll have my dog beat you and the other beatings will seem like caresses after he's through with you."

Regardless of the Hound's threatening stare boring into me, I know that he was warning me to stop riling the King, acting on my behalf, and I find it easy to ease back in my old frightened state.

"Oh no, please your grace! Not the Hound I beg of you!"

The Hound gives a short bark of laughter, and a lot of people chuckle in the court at my pleadings. This makes me realise even more how alone and defenceless I am here, and while it makes me feel desolate, I know that the Hound is doing his mummer's farce. This gives me more strength, and I try to hide my pain and smoldering anger from everybody until the court has adjourned.

Then the peace has evaporated again and I feel uneasy. I regularly feel now this anger and have to be careful not to be foolhardy and put myself in danger. I remain silent, and start to feel disquieted when Margery doesn't call me her sister anymore, cools toward me and stop inviting me to join her and her cousins in their circle. I'm afraid that it means that the proposal between me and Willas has been called off.

Then several days pass without Dontos meeting me in the godswood. That had never happened before, and I start to grow more apprehensive; that the offer of escape has been abandoned too. What will happen to me? My mother is still keeping Jaime as a hostage and no talks about an exchange have even been mentioned, so I feel even more desperate at what will be my fate. I know that it won't continue on like this for long. I'm a pawn that has to be used again.

It doesn't stop me from going to the godwoods each night at dusk. On the fifth night without having seen Dontos, I kneel down before a tree, thinking that this time the old gods will hear me, as I put my body, my mind and my soul into the words, becoming a prayer, like an intense shout that is sent through its maw and into the heavens. Please, please hear me! I'm desperate, nobody could be this helpless, I can't take it anymore, help me, GRANT MY WISH!

I feel that a tremendous energy has left me, and the release of it calms me down. I suddenly hear footsteps in the quiet and get up hurriedly from my knees, a surge of hope rising in me. But when I turn around to see who has entered the godswood, I spy Sandor Clegane, swaggering with a mocking look on his face as he approaches me.

"Not the one you were waiting for, is it?"

His unexpected appearance flusters me, and I reply coldly. "I was not waiting for anybody, Hound. I was trying to pray, and now you've broken my peace! I'm going to leave now. Go away."

"In seven hells I will. Come sit here. Now."

This is the last thing that I want to do, and while I try to escape him, he grabs my wrist and tugs at my arm, forcing me to follow him to the bench. I'm getting really nervous now, as I fear that Dontos could appear any moment and all will be lost because the Hound persists in staying here. I sit beside him, on the good side of his face but as far away from him as possible so he won't feel my trembling, and look down at the ground.

"So, who is it that you're meeting there regularly? Look at me."

I meet his gaze while I try to look as expressionless as possible, clasping my hands together.

"Hound," I say in a tone of voice as firm as possible, "if you continue to follow me, I'll tell the Queen."

He snorts in derision. "Tell her then. I don't fucking care. But you won't like it when I'll tell her that you meet someone here regularly, a man."

My heart sinks in consternation. Don't I have anything to defend myself with? But I have to keep my resolve. "Nobody, I told you, I come here to pray."

Now his eyes have turned dark with anger and made his mouth surly, revealing his teeth.

"Don't lie to me", he hisses.

I raise my chin defiantly. "I'll do whatever and say whatever I please! I don't owe you anything!" Now, what has gotten into me? He'll kill me!

Contrary to my expectations, his face clears and he chuckles in appreciation.

"The little bird is growing claws. Be careful though. You've put yourself in danger at court on the other day. I heard the mockery behind your words. Now, you've put me in a difficult situation, as next time Joff wants to punish you, I'll be the one who'll have to do it." His face has turned somber from the thought of it.

"I didn't put you in any situation," I say sullenly. "It's you who spoke."

He growls. "I didn't have time to think of something better to say. I'll find a good reason not to do it if he asks me to strike you. Don't fret."

There I have it finally, a real confirmation that he had been trying to help me for all these years. Surprisingly, it melts my resentment and fear of him. It has touched me deeply and I feel tears coming to my eyes from the warmth of it; that he really has cared, like I had sometimes thought that he did.

"Thank you very much. I appreciated it, and knew that you were not laughing at me like the others."

He smiles at me, and I feel for the first time that it is a genuine one. It's a rare moment of ease, of tentative trust between us. Then I'm reminded of the precarious situation that I'm in and look around nervously. Naturally, this doesn't escape his attention, and his face turns dark again.

"Don't think that you'll distract me with your pretty courtesies. I have not forgotten why I came here, and I'll spare you the questions, as I know the answers already." He looks at me intently, and I try not to flinch from his gaze. The one who you meet; a certain fool called Dontos, isn't it?"

I blurt out without thinking: "Not anymore. I've not seen him for a while."

I regret my words as soon as they're out and the Hound smiles knowingly.

"Not really good at intrigue, are you? Doesn't matter anyway. I've known for quite a while now, and I think that even the queen knows, because of Varys the spider and his little birds."

I put a hand on my mouth to stifle my gasp of fear. "Oh no! What do you think she will do?"

"She won't do anything, as he won't ever come again here to meet you. He's dead."

This time I cannot suppress a gasp, and a sense of unreality with renewed despair seizes me badly. I wring my hands.

"What happened? Has the queen had him killed? Did you kill him?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing like this. I visited him earlier in the afternoon in his quarters, to question him. On my initiative, not the queen's," he adds hastily. "Then he died."

My eyes narrow and a sense of foreboding chills me. "Don't tell me that you tortured him until he died?"

"That's not my way, and I didn't need to do it. He died of fright from my questions and knowing that he was lost. He was weak, old, rotted by the drink and a fat body."

"It's still your fault! If you hadn't come in his room and threatened him, he would still live, rescue me and help me escape! The poor man, who wanted to help me! What have you done, you beast, you'll go to hell for this!"

"I've already been there, remember?" He's sliding closer to me and grabs my shoulders roughly. I react by clenching a fist and hitting one of his hands repeatedly. This makes him laugh for a moment, and when he removes his hands, his lips pulled back from his teeth like the dog he is.

"You don't know anything, you little ignorant fool! He spilled everything to me, and it's not what you think, your beloved Florian bringing you to a nice ship and you sailing away to a place where you'll be safe. He was promised ten thousand gold dragons to deliver you to someone who has had plans for you for a long time. And guess who? Littlefinger, who betrayed your father!"

I'm rendered speechless by this. While I want to struggle against this new knowledge, to drive it out of my mind, I know deep inside of me that this is true. It was another of these illusions that I still harbored which had hypnotised me into thinking again that a song could come true. Again, I cannot blame this man for rooting out the truth and flinging into my face, but I'm still furious at him for telling me this, for having interfered in my plans, ill advised or not. How he must take pleasure of my being prisoner there forever.

I thought that I would cry at the death of one of my last hopes, but I feel too devastated and instead a great cold has enveloped me. I feel anger, I feel hate. I turn around to face him on the bench and find out once again that as having not reacted in my expected ways, it unbalances my foes. Yes, he is a foe. He's watching me closely, with a puzzled expression on his face that makes him look almost vulnerable. I remember from the other night that he had told that I should have treated him better, and I think that I'll be nice and then after that really hurt him, hurt him as bad as I'm hurting now; make him bleed in a different way that he's used to.

It's very hard to do, as I still fear him and at the same time would prefer to strike him instead of what I do next. I lift my hand to his face, and very slowly and gently, I stroke the good side of his face and his long black hair, smiling sweetly at him. Then I see something that I've never seen in his face before, a softening that changes it completely, and he leans his cheek into my hand, for a moment; a long, long moment until he gets a suspicious gleam in his eyes and his face hardens in a black fury. His hands seize my wrists in such a hard grasp that I cry out.

"What do you think you're doing?" He's speaking through clenched teeth. "Don't play with me, little girl."

And still the defiance is in me. 'What will you do then? Beat me, kill me? Do it, I don't care. I have no reasons for living anymore."

Everything happens so fast that I have no time to react. From sitting I find myself suddenly sprawled on the ground on my back, with him lying down on top of me, his big body and heavy weight making me unable to struggle against him. I'm suffocating. His arms and legs block any movement from my limbs, and his face hovers above mine, looking older and bleak.

"Oh really?" he asks through a raspy whisper. "We'll see about that."

His face his leaning down toward mine, getting closer, and I'm filled with a fresh terror, like the one I had felt in my chamber on the night of the battle while he was crouching down on me with his teeth barred, bathed in that strange green light; except that this time he's smelling sweeter, with only a hint of sweat and wine coming off from him. I move my head back and forth to avoid contact with his face, to escape those eyes, while I whimper and plead.

"Please, Hound, stop this! I'm scared, mercy!"

He sighs through his nose. "I see that the little bird still has a will to live. That's good."

His face is still getting closer to mine, and I cannot do anything to stop it; but he surprises me with what he does. His mouth finds my forehead and cheeks, and he kisses them repeatedly in a strangely delicate and tender way. This shifts the hate for a moment, stirring something in my chest. Then supporting himself on his elbows and knees, he heaves himself off me and gets up. I sit up. Bending down, he hauls me to my feet by grasping me under my armpits.

I sway a bit for a moment and start to dust my dress furiously, to calm all the feelings that are warring in me and which are making me feel overwhelmed with their force. He doesn't do anything, uncaring of the dust and dirt on him. He's smirking again.

"Are you starting to regret not having left with me when I asked you? Would have saved you a lot of pain."

"Never! I never will. And you didn't leave. You're still there."

"Not for long, pretty thing. I'm just biding my time. And next time, when I leave, I won't ask you; you'll leave with me, whether you want it or not. That's a promise."

This time, when I make a move to escape, he doesn't move and lets me go, laughing.