Author's Note: I hope everyone is enjoying these past few chapters! It's been fun to write them! Thank you for the support as always!

They couldn't keep their hands off each other. They were making love every single night, and the more they did, the sweeter it became. He'd melt at the sight of Celeste; ever since she pointed out what the fluttering in his stomach actually was, he's thrown himself completely into the feeling. He finds himself staring at her, to the point where she's had to call out to him to snap him out of it. He's grumpy when she's away from his side for too long, and he's thankful all the men are afraid of him and don't dare to go near her. He's begun to enjoy his new life of peace, but he knows he's capable of killing a man, or multiple men, if they even so much as raise their voice at his woman.

"The Gods aren't done with the likes of you; they have plans for Sandor Clegane," Septon Ray insisted.

Sandor eyed him skeptically. Celeste had left his side after finishing their afternoon meal to help with the cleanup and Ray decided to keep him company. Sandor has been wondering why he's still alive following his near-death experience. Why has he been offered a second chance at redemption? And why has he been blessed with a woman he never thought would love him? With all he's done, he doesn't deserve any of it.

"You didn't know me back in my time," Sandor narrowed his eyes. "You don't know the things I've done."

"I've heard stories."

"If the gods are real, why haven't they punished me?"

"They have," Ray told him and left him alone with his thoughts.

He was distracted that night, and Celeste noticed. She sat cross-legged in their tent, running her fingers through her hair as he laid near her on his back. His hand found its way underneath her blouse, and he absentmindedly caressed the smooth skin of her lower back as he stared at nothing in particular.

"What's wrong, Sandor?" she asked softly.

It took him a few seconds to put together the words. "It doesn't bother you I've killed so many fucking people? That I killed a butcher's boy and robbed that farmer?"

Celeste's face fell. "You've done those things, but I know that's not who you are."

"I enjoy killing," he told her firmly. "I enjoy fighting and sticking swords through men's guts to see the life disappear from their eyes."

"I won't say I'm not upset at the things you've done," she said. "But you're not perfect; no one is."

"You're fucking perfect."

"I'm flattered, but I'm certainly not."

"Everyone loves you; for fuck's sake, you got me to love you, and that's no easy fucking thing to do."

She laughed softly before shaking her head, "I'm too naïve, and I get hurt so easily over mere words; I don't have a thick skin like you, nor am I bold and fearless like Arya. I'm not physically strong, and I don't enjoy fighting, and I cry for any little thing."

Sandor remained silent as she took his hand and ran her fingertips over his palm and wrist. "You've killed with these hands, but you've protected me with them as well; you make me feel safe."

Like all the nights before, tonight was no different. Sandor always had to be mindful of his own strength when he had her hair in his hand. It was difficult not to tug her curls too roughly as he watched her head bob up and down, and feeling her tongue swirling on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head every time. He never allowed whores to suck his cock before: they'd be too close to his pockets and he didn't like the thought of knowing they literally had him by the balls. It didn't take too long for Celeste to insist on returning the favor, and while reluctant at first, he let her even after she teased him about being the first woman to pleasure him in such a way. He guided her the first time, but she hasn't needed more coaching ever since.

"You look like you're thoroughly enjoying yourself," she mused.

"You've gotten better," he commended her. "Who knew the dainty little lady would be so good at sucking cock?"

She rolled her eyes in amusement and brought herself up to kiss his lips. "You're lucky I find your vulgarities amusing."

"Thank all those seven fuckers for that," he chuckled.

He loved the perfect view he had of her as she straddled his lap and swayed her hips to grind against him. Sandor usually had to worry about not crushing her under his weight, but like this, he could run his hands over her lovely body and feel her smooth skin. He loved feeling the bumps of her spine and the dip of her small waist and her chest against his own as she moved with him. He especially loved it when she reached her peak and threw her head back in pleasure while her nails dug into his skin. Seeing her in such a state was his catalyst, and he gripped her hips to keep them in place as he let his pleasure hit him like a tidal wave. He sighed as the afterglow warmed his body and laid back on the bedding, "You're so fucking beautiful when you do that."

"Thank you," she giggled breathlessly and leaned down to kiss him. Sandor hummed, his large hands running up her sides and then squeezing her breasts. Celeste moaned, "That hurts, Sandor."

"I barely touched you."

"They've been deathly sore lately; I'm probably about to—"

Celeste cut herself off abruptly and sprung back up on his lap, frowning in deep thought. Sandor sighed softly as he ran his thumbs over her hips, "What is it?"

"When was the last time I bled?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?"

She let out a nervous giggle. His eyes widened in realization, and he sat up to meet her face-to-face as she straddled his lap. "You haven't complained about bleeding since we started fucking."

Celeste giggled again, "If I don't bleed soon, expect to be a father."

"You're fucking joking," he scoffed. "Don't joke with me."

"I'm not! I wouldn't joke about that!"

"Are you sure?"

"I don't know," her face suddenly fell. "If I am, it might not be for long."

"What the fuck are you on about?"

Celeste suddenly pushed herself off him and reached for a nearby blanket to wrap herself in for warmth. "Do you remember when we still lived in King's Landing and I tricked the court into thinking I was with child and then lost it?"

"Aye, everyone was giving me fucking looks for weeks."

"The reason I knew how to make it believable was because my mother lost seven children: two before me and five afterwards," she explained. "I was the only one she managed to bring into the world alive and healthy."

Sandor reached for her, smoothing down her hair in an attempt to comfort her. She spoke before he could say anything, her voice wavering, "I did such a selfish thing that day to save my own head from King Joffrey; I remember my father didn't look at all surprised by the news—he knew I'd inherited my mother's curse."

"That's not fucking true, Celeste,"

"The Gods will punish me for that, Sandor!" she sobbed.

"No they fucking won't," Sandor told her firmly. He took her face in his hands and wiped away the tears staining her face with his thumbs, "If you lose that child in you, the Gods aren't punishing you—they'd be punishing me."

Celeste's bottom lip wavered, and he couldn't help but kiss it. He pressed his forehead to hers as he stroked her hair, "You're too good to be punished, woman. None of those seven fuckers would dare."

Celeste nodded slowly, "I usually flower during the full moon..."

"Look at me," Sandor demanded gently. When she met his eyes, he told her, "They won't punish you; I promise you that."

The full moon came and went, and Sandor's concern grew for Celeste. She was terrified of what her mother possibly passed onto her, and constantly worried about the Seven's wrath. She barely slept at night; Sandor held her close to him, but he always felt her jump awake several times in the night. In the mornings during breakfast, she was nauseous and didn't eat until well into the afternoon. Sandor was noting subtle changes in her body; her breasts looked fuller, and her reddish blonde hair was shinier and her curls were very defined. Her relatively flat belly began to protrude out, and that's when Sandor finally saw her smile, "My mother never went further than three moon cycles before losing the child."

"It's been four," Sandor pointed out. "I've been counting."

Her smile twinkled brighter than the stars beyond the ceiling of their tent. Sandor couldn't help but return the smile. "I told you they wouldn't dare punish you, woman."

"They didn't punish you either," she brushed her fingertips over his burn scars.

He didn't wince at her touch anymore. In fact, he's grown fond of it. "Aye, they didn't."

The next day, Sandor was shocked by how happy the other villagers seemed to be for him. He's never spoken more than three words with any of them, yet when Celeste let it slip to her flock of married women that she was with child, they told Septon Ray, and then Septon Ray told the other men, and then everyone knew, and everyone made it a point to congratulate him personally. During the evening sermon, Septon Ray made the announcement official.

"Congratulations!" Ray smiled at them. "We have children in this congregation, but yours will be the first birth; you bless us with the honor, and your child will bring much happiness to both of you."