Episode 21
"Thanksgiving"
Gossip Spyder
Arya Stark, you little minx! I would not have thought it possible, if not for these images that we are seeing! There you have it, folks. The reason for her abrupt split with Sandor Clegane seems obvious…she was spotted walking hand-in-hand with Jaqen H'ghar in Braavos on the weekend. The two were rumored to have been dating some months ago, and it looks as though things were not over between them! Let's hope things are sweeter for these two the second time around.
In football news…the Grand Final is on this Saturday night at Baelor's Arena, and our White Knights will be playing the Dragonstone Academy Dragons for the Championship. Don't forget the traditional pre-game bonfire at Blackwater Beach! Let's go, White Knights!
With Thanksgiving just days away, I would like to wish everyone a Happy Holiday!
Tata for now!
Gossip Spyder
Arya
What a total disaster.
Arya stared at the photos of herself and Jaqen, her hand clearly clutched in his, and sighed. There were far too many people out there with nothing better to do than take photos of other people out on their date. She understood why many celebrities got so touchy about having their picture taken by paparazzi. If her last name had not been Stark, then nobody would give a shit about whose hand she was holding.
As it was, predictably, people at school were staring and talking about her behind cupped hands. Sadly, she was used to it, and having refined her skills in the art of glaring under the tutelage of Sandor Clegane, she glared darkly at anyone who dared to look at her in any way that pissed her off.
"For someone going out with a total hottie like Jaqen H'ghar, you think she could smile a little?" she'd overheard some girl in her math class say.
She might have been smiling, she thought, had her date on Saturday not ended with Gendry punching Jaqen's jaw, and Beric having to escort Gendry from the premises of Heart of Fire. She closed her eyes at the memory, and shook her head.
"What the hell is this?"
The sound of Gendry's voice still rang in her ears. More than the disappointment and anger she'd expected to hear, it was the underlying pain in his voice that was really getting to her. Gendry had looked as though she'd betrayed him.
"What are you doing here with him, Arya?" he'd demanded, his eyes darting from her to Jaqen and back. "What's going on between the two of you?"
"I should think that was quite obvious." Jaqen had stood up, immediately on the defensive.
Beric had stepped between them, arms outstretched in order to keep them apart, anticipating the possibility of aggression.
"I wasn't talking to you," Gendry had snapped at Jaqen, rudely.
"I won't allow you to speak to Arya while you are like this–" Jaqen moved in front of her, attempting to keep her behind him, and shielding her from Gendry.
"Arya?" Gendry had pressed forward, but Beric held him back. "Is it true? Are you with him?"
She hadn't been able to answer him. For sure, he had seen Jaqen kissing her, and she hadn't been resisting. However you looked at it, there was only one conclusion one could make.
"Don't do this now, Gendry," Beric had urged him, "let's go. You can talk to her another day."
"No." Gendry had shaken his head. "I need to hear it from her,"
"You'd best leave now, you are making a scene," Jaqen pointed out.
People had begun to watch them, even though the band on the stage continued performing. Arya's heart had been pounding in her chest, and she'd never felt so acutely helpless. Denying what she had with Jaqen would make her a liar, and she didn't want to deny what had just happened between them. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't result in pain for either Gendry or Jaqen…so she'd kept her mouth shut.
"Answer me, Arya,"
"Let it go, Gendry," Beric started to pull him away.
"Listen to your friend," Jaqen added, "though, you must see that her answer is clear."
Arya had seen Gendry swing his arm back, but she could do nothing but gape in shock as his fist connected with the side of Jaqen's face.
"Jaqen!" she'd cried.
"Back off, Gendry!" Beric had shouted at the same time.
Jaqen had stumbled into the table, causing it to scrape noisily against the floor, knocking down the chairs they'd recently been occupying. The music faltered, and people scattered to get out of the way. With his hand to his face, Jaqen righted himself and glared at Gendry.
Arya moved in front of Jaqen, and looked pleadingly at Gendry. "Please, just go."
Security had been called, and Arya had seen their approach through the crowd. She had wanted to avoid further trouble for both of them. Gendry stopped struggling in Beric's hold, and he gave her a final look.
"Fine," he said, "if that's what you want."
Two security guards appeared beside Beric and Gendry, and Beric appeased them by assuring them there would be no further violence.
"Move along fellas," one of them said.
With a prod from Beric, Gendry finally turned around, and Arya watched as the crowd parted to let them through. When she could no longer see them, Arya turned to face Jaqen.
"I'm so sorry." She reached out and touched his arm. "Are you okay?"
There was a cut on his lip, but otherwise he seemed all right. People around them began to mind their own business again, and the band on the stage resumed playing.
"It takes much more than that to hurt me," he said, and offered her a smile. "I am concerned about you. Are you all right?"
"I'm okay," she'd replied, though she clearly wasn't.
A woman dressed entirely in red had appeared beside them, and Arya's first impression of the older woman was that she wasn't one to be messed with.
"Jaqen, is everything all right?" she had asked, observing him as he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.
"Ah, Melisandre." Jaqen had smiled at her apologetically. "I apologize for the trouble. I assure you it will not happen again."
"Glad to hear it." The woman had given him a smile before turning her attention to Arya.
Jaqen had introduced her to the club's proprietor, and the knowing expression on the woman's face had let Arya know that Melisandre was perfectly aware of the reason behind Jaqen and Gendry's altercation.
"I gathered you would be acquainted with Gendry and the Brotherhood," Melisandre had commented, "however, I was not expecting this…animosity."
Jaqen had given her a rueful smile. "Perhaps, animosity is the wrong word…I would say it was more of a difference of opinion."
"Is that so?" Melisandre had glanced towards Arya. "They both must have strong…opinions, regarding this matter. Don't you agree, Arya?"
"It seems so," Jaqen had replied for her, when Arya had found herself tongue-tied.
"Let's hope you sort out your differences before long. We wouldn't want your handsome face damaged any further, do we? It's not as though you can just slip on a new one."
Melisandre had wished them a pleasant afternoon, before leaving to speak to other guests around the room, to assure them that everything was fine, presumably. Not long after that, Jaqen had tactfully suggested he take her home, and Arya had agreed to end their date earlier than what he had planned for. She'd apologized to him several more times on the drive home, feeling awful that he'd been hurt because of her, and feeling doubly terrible that it had been one of her friends responsible for the injury to his face.
"Stop worrying, Arya." Jaqen had reached over the gears for her hand, which he squeezed reassuringly. "It is understandable, what Gendry has done…I might have done the same thing, had the tables been turned."
The idea of Jaqen punching Gendry was no less distressing, but Arya had kept the thought to herself, thankful that Jaqen had held back and not punched Gendry in return.
At the gate of Chateau Maegor, Jaqen had turned to her with a gentle look in his eyes. "I will see you again soon, hmm? We have something we need to talk about."
"Soon," she'd agreed, knowing exactly what he was referring to.
The rest of her weekend had been spent isolated in her bedroom, stalking both Jaqen and Gendry on Facebook, where she'd learned that the Brotherhood Without Banners had been booked to play at the Heart of Fire. The reason for Beric and Gendry's presence at the club became evident, and Arya hoped that Gendry's actions had not jeopardized this opportunity for the band. When Gossip Spyder had posted the photos of her and Jaqen, Arya had felt a moment of panic fearing that Gendry and Jaqen's altercation might have been caught on camera too, but she'd been relieved when there'd been no mention of it. Gendry didn't need that on top of everything else.
At school, Gendry had made it clear that he was avoiding her. There had been one moment where their eyes had met across the hall for a second, and Gendry's blue eyes had been cold as he'd looked at her. Arya had felt the chill even after he'd walked away. She didn't know if there was going to be any recovery from this. She didn't know if their friendship could withstand the emotional damage she was inflicting on Gendry, and the knowledge caused Arya's chest to ache painfully, as though there was something sharp lodged between her ribs, right where her heart should be.
Twisting that sharp object deeper was the fact that Gendry had not only seen Jaqen kissing her, but that she had been kissing him back. Right before things had turned to shit, and while she'd been deep in his kiss, Arya had come to a realization. She had no idea if she was making the right decision. How did anyone know if the choices they made would ultimately be the right one for them? All she could do was go with heart, and hope that her heart would lead her to the right path.
Right then…her heart was choosing Jaqen.
Gendry
There was no excusing her behavior now. It appeared that Arya had made her choice quite some time ago, and she'd been avoiding him because she'd been too cowardly to tell him.
Fact; Arya had chosen Jaqen.
Gendry had waited so long, and stupidly, thinking that Arya would give him a chance and at she would at least listen to him. He thought that she had reciprocated some of his feelings, and that she would let him show her how he felt. He had forced himself to be patient, thinking that Arya wanted to avoid further gossip, so he'd been willing to wait for the talk to die down. But, now he just felt like an absolute chump. Jaqen H'ghar had once again managed to sneak his way in, and now he was with Arya.
Fact; he was too slow.
He had always been a step behind. He should have acted on his feelings for Arya much sooner. Had he been too soft? He wondered. Should he have been more aggressive in his pursuit? God, I don't understand girls at all! He felt anger surge through him. Arya could have been honest with him from the moment she'd decided to choose Jaqen over him, instead of making him think he had a chance. Had she been leading him on the entire time? The thought of it made it hard to breathe, as though his lungs were being constricted, while his heart was being wrung dry.
The Arya he knew…the Arya he thought he knew was incapable of playing games like that. She didn't have it in her to hurt people for no good reason. He never ever would have thought she was capable of causing him this much pain. Another thought adding to his misery was the realization that perhaps, he had never really known her to begin with.
From day one, they had always belonged in different worlds. He couldn't compare to Jaqen H'ghar, Gendry thought. He wasn't as worldly, as confident, or even half the musician that Jaqen was. He had never been a suitable match for Arya. Sandor Clegane had been right when he'd said the Stark sisters were too out of reach for ordinary guys like him. He was just a rat from Flea Bottom, and he couldn't change that. All the money he'd inherited couldn't change that, either. Now, he was just a rat wearing overpriced clothes and driving an overpriced car.
A rat will always be a rat.
Beric, Edric and Hot Pie had been waiting for him in the parking lot when he'd reached school that morning. It had surprised, and irritated him at the same time. Of course, Beric had promptly informed Edric and Hot Pie about the incident with Jaqen at Heart of Fire, and Gendry had been receiving text messages from the guys all weekend.
Gendry hadn't replied to any of them, hence the entourage escorting him to class that morning.
"I'm fine," he'd said to them as they'd circled him upon exiting his car.
"Are you sure?" Edric had asked.
"How's your hand?" Beric had glanced at Gendry's right hand.
"Fine." Gendry had raised his hand and flexed his fingers. "It's fine. Except it's still itching to land a few more punches on that bastard's smug face."
Beric had frowned at his words. "You need that hand to play guitar, so I'm kind of glad you don't have that option."
Gendry had given him an uncertain look, suspecting that their lead singer was more concerned for his guitar-playing hand than for his general wellbeing. There was no surprise about Arya being the topic of many conversations around him during classes that day. All the talk regarding how perfect she and Jaqen looked together, and how much more suited she was with the senior from Braavos Academy compared to Sandor Clegane, only compounded his foul mood. He had chanced upon Arya in a hallway once during the day, and he hadn't been able to rearrange his facial expression into one of nonchalance fast enough. He didn't necessarily want her to see how much her rejection was affecting him, but by the sudden widening of her eyes, Gendry was sure she could read it on his face, and in his eyes.
He'd walked away before the urge to walk over to her and shake her by the shoulders and demand why became too much, and he'd spent the rest of the day trying his best to shut off from the talk of his classmates. Hot Pie had tailed him whenever he could, muttering the whole time and expressing his disbelief.
"I can't believe she could do this. She must have an explanation for not saying anything."
But, Gendry hadn't wanted to hear anything excusing Arya's behavior.
"Just drop it," he'd told Hot Pie, "I don't want to talk about this…or her."
"But…"
"How do those songs go? Shake it off? Let it go?" Gendry had shaken his head. "From today, she doesn't exist."
"Really? That's how you're going to deal with this?"
"It's a good a plan as any." Gendry shrugged.
"Ignoring the problem is a plan, huh?"
"I'm not ignoring it," Gendry corrected him, "I'm getting over it."
"Really?" Hot Pie said for the second time, skeptically.
"Really," Gendry stated firmly, "from today, I'm going to focus on the band. I'm going to concentrate on preparing for the gigs that Beric's lining up, and…who knows? Maybe, I'll think about accepting an offer from one of these girls that keep sending me messages."
"You get messages from girls?" Hot Pie raised his brows, distracted.
"Yeah." Gendry forced a smile. "Didn't you know? I'm popular, or so it seems. Being in a band makes me hot property."
"For real?"
Gendry took out his smart phone and quickly navigated to his Facebook inbox, before flashing it before Hot Pie's eyes. "There, fifty-four unread messages, and that's just today."
Hot Pie whistled. "Well, once you've taken your pick, do you think you could introduce some of them to me?"
Gendry managed a chuckle, and he made a few more comments that he hoped would make Hot Pie believe he was okay, though his throat felt thick with bile, and the bitterness that came with disappointment.
Sadly, it was a taste he was familiar with.
Sansa
Her eyes had been seeking out the tall and dark-haired figure of Sandor Clegane all day. In fact, all she had been doing for the past week since the news about his breakup with her sister went public was stare at him when he was within sight, or trying to catch a glimpse of him during breaks and in between classes.
Seeing the photos of Arya and Jaqen holding hands had not surprised her. Arya suddenly breaking up with Sandor had to have been for a reason, and the events of the weekend had revealed it to all. She recalled that her sister had been linked with Jaqen in the past, and it appeared Arya's feelings for him were stronger than what she had with Sandor. She'd wondered how Sandor was taking the news, and consequently, she'd taken to covertly watching him to see if she could glean anything from his fierce expression.
Talking to him was easier said than done. Their paths had rarely crossed since the day he'd found her loitering at his locker, and it wasn't as though she could just go up to him and say hello, especially now that she and Jeyne were no longer sitting with Joffrey's group. Sandor's face for the most part, when she did see him, remained impassive. Perhaps the news of his ex-girlfriend holding hands with another guy so soon after breaking up with him did not faze him. Or, perhaps he just didn't have any time to think about it.
It was Thanksgiving week, and the championship match was mere days away. The most talked about topic, other than Arya Stark and Jaqen H'ghar, was the upcoming game against Dragonstone Academy. There had been murmurs amongst the sporting aficionados that Coach Selmy had been less than thrilled with Sandor's game of late, and that Sandor had been called on by the coach for pep-talks. If that was the case, then Sansa was glad that Sandor had something else to focus his attention and energy towards.
The same could be said for herself. Sansa was rediscovering her love for music, and she now threw herself into her choir commitments with enthusiasm. The Musical Director had recently began calling for extra rehearsals in preparation for the string of performances they would be having, including the Christmas Recital in a month's time, and then a prestigious competition in the new year.
Conveniently, this gave Sansa a reason to avoid having lunch in the quad, but she did miss her cheerleader friends, Randa and Mya, who had chosen to remove themselves from Joffrey's circle, and were now sitting with other girls from the cheer squad. It was awkward for her to be sitting in the quad, Sansa thought, especially with Margaery Tyrell now holding court.
Margaery's entry into King's Landing Prep's social circles had been seamless, and from what Sansa had observed, Margaery had been warmly welcomed. Margaery was one of those girls that seemed to fit in regardless of which group of people she was with. She was smart and witty, so she could converse with the brainy and intellectual types. Her mother and grandmother were noted for their charitable works, so Margaery was favored by the altruistic types, and word was she had already pledged to support a 'Feed the Homeless' effort. Having been a cheerleader at her old school, Margaery's athleticism was proven, and of course she had already been asked to join the KL Prep Cheer Squad.
Margaery Tyrell could do no wrong, and it was apparent that her association with Joffrey Baratheon was only having a positive effect on how he was perceived. People still quietly whispered about Sansa's breakup with him, and nobody had forgotten that very public scene in the quad. Witnesses to the incident at Blount's party where Sansa's blouse had been ripped, correctly speculated that Joffrey had frequently been violent with Sansa, which ultimately led to their breakup. However, with Margaery's presence at his side, opinions were being swayed. After all, Margaery had to be a good judge of character, so how bad could Joffrey be? Whatever Sansa's reason for breaking up with Joffrey, it couldn't be because he was physically hurting her.
It annoyed her. It maddened her, how easily people could be fooled. But, she did not let this detract from how happy she was to be away from him.
"She's not dating Joffrey," Jeyne said, seeing that Sansa's gaze had been focused on the table at the quad that was surrounded by Joffrey and his hangers-on. "She's sticking to the story that they're just friends."
"I don't care if she's dating Joffrey," Sansa stated truthfully, "Margaery knows what she's getting into."
Sansa did not elaborate, as she had not told Jeyne about the fact that Margaery and her grandmother had grilled her about Joffrey.
"Come on. Let's get to the music room." Jeyne linked her elbow with Sansa's, and the two made their way to the performing arts block for another rehearsal session.
As they rounded the corner, both girls stopped in their tracks as the imposing figure of Sandor Clegane approached from the opposite direction. He noticed them, but it wasn't until Jeyne greeted him that he slowed his steps.
"Hi, Sandor," Jeyne smiled at him, with a daringness that Sansa envied at that moment.
Sandor looked at her awkwardly, before responding. "Hi."
"Are you excited for the final match this Saturday night?" Jeyne asked him easily.
"I guess." He shrugged. "It's the first time we'll be facing Dragonstone Academy in the finals."
"We'll be coming to watch and cheer you on," Jeyne stated.
Sansa gave her friend a quick look from the side of her eye, as no mention had been made to watch the game previously, but now she had to thank her friend for her quick thinking.
"Yeah," Sansa added, unnecessarily, "we'll be there."
"Great," Sandor grunted without expression.
"Are you going to the bonfire before the game? It's tradition, I heard," Sansa found herself asking, eager to hear his response.
"The bonfire, huh?" Sandor sighed, his lack of enthusiasm for the subject was impossible to miss. "I guess I'll have to be there, because it's tradition, and it's supposed to be good luck if the entire team is present."
"Then, maybe we'll see you there," Sansa said, with a hopeful cheerfulness.
"Maybe." Sandor nodded. "I gotta go. I need to see Coach Selmy."
Sandor did not wait for their response, before sidestepping them and continuing on his way. Both girls watched him as he walked away.
"Why are we suddenly going to the game?" Sansa asked her friend. "I thought we weren't going."
"We're going so you can cheer him on, like you just told him." Jeyne smiled, innocently.
"Jeyne…"
"Look, the guy is single now…and so are you."
"I thought we agreed I shouldn't do anything that would upset my sister?" Sansa frowned.
"Ahuh," Jeyne agreed. "But that was before she broke up with him. In any case, it looks like your sister has already moved on from Sandor."
"Is it really okay for me to go after him? He's my sister's ex."
"There's no law against it," Jeyne pointed out, "and, it's not like they were going to get married or anything."
"But, it doesn't feel like it would be right for me to go after him so soon." Sansa sighed. "And, as you saw, he didn't look happy to see me."
"Sandor's not a guy of many expressions," Jeyne said, rather flippantly, "so, unless he tells you to leave him alone, there is no reason why you shouldn't be friends with him in the meantime."
Sansa sighed once again, and hoped that her friend was right.
"Do you think he knew about Arya and Jaqen before Gossip Spyder posted about them?" Jeyne wondered.
Sansa shrugged. "It's hard to say. I mean, he doesn't look like he gives a damn about any of it. How can anyone be that unaffected? I just don't get it. Am I not seeing something?"
Jeyne didn't have an answer for her either, and Sansa found herself thinking over the situation far too often over the coming days. She was hung up over Sandor, and it was because of this that she was trying to get into his head and why she was coming up with all sorts of reasons that would explain Sandor's total unaffectedness. At first, she figured he was just good at hiding his feelings, but she knew from prior experience that if Sandor was displeased about something, he wasn't one to hide it.
She even imagined that he went home at night and sulked in private while staring at photos of Arya, which depressed her, so she quickly put a stop to that chain of thought. Eventually, she came to the possibility that maybe the split was amicable, and that the relationship had died a natural death. Perhaps Sandor's affections for her sister really were no longer romantic, which was why seeing her with another guy did not bother him.
Sansa hoped this was the likely explanation, because she really didn't like the thought of Sandor suffering from heartache. Time is what he needed, she thought. Given time, Sandor would eventually go back to his normal self, and with enough time, Sansa hoped she would figure out how she was going to deal with her own emotions.
Arya
It was a short week, due to the Thanksgiving holiday, and school ended early for them that Wednesday. Arya had rushed home, eager for Robb and Jon to arrive with Theon. They were staying for the four day weekend, and Arya had missed them. She hadn't been able to keep in touch with Jon as often as she would have liked in recent weeks as he'd been busy with exams and assignments for college, so she had been greatly looking forward to seeing him again.
Bran and Rickon were in the entertainment room watching cartoons when she reached Chateau Maegor, and their mother was in the kitchen speaking with the chef regarding the menu for the coming days. In addition to her brothers coming to visit, Uncle Benjen would be joining them for the holiday, too.
Her father, though his stern expression changed little, was excited to see his younger brother as well. Arya knew this because she'd heard him ordering cases of Uncle Benjen's favorite beer, and making certain that his favorite sticky baked chicken wings were included in the menu. Her dad could be cute sometimes, Arya thought.
Her phone buzzed just as she reached her bedroom, and without even checking, she knew that the text message would be from Jaqen.
"Have a happy Thanksgiving, lovely girl. I can't wait to see you on Saturday. The next two days will be torture. Saturday seems so far away…"
Arya bit her lip as she read the message. She and Jaqen had been swapping text messages every day since their date, and with each of Jaqen's messages, Arya was waiting for the one that would confirm things between them. She was waiting for the words that would make them…official.
She had done some serious thinking over the past few days, and asking herself some hard questions. The answers she had reached were not easy to come to terms with, and she'd been forced to reconcile with the fact that she had done very little to prevent the trouble and pain she had caused the two guys she had claimed to care about.
She'd made a decision. She was happy about that decision. She was also very regretful that Gendry had to be hurt for her to be happy. Perhaps it was unavoidable. Perhaps, Gendry was always going to be hurt. Perhaps she had always known she was going to end up with Jaqen. Arya had come to see that her hesitation regarding Gendry was because she hadn't really ever seen him in a romantic way. No, that's not right. She told herself. If things had worked out differently…I could have been with Gendry.
As it was, she was too caught up in Jaqen that she couldn't give Gendry the chance he deserved. She only wished that Gendry didn't have to see her kissing Jaqen. Telling him about Jaqen would have been hard enough, but at least he deserved to have her tell him to his face.
"You're a coward," Hot Pie had said to her. He had bumped into her as she'd come out of a classroom. "You're a coward, and a liar."
"I am not," Arya had tried to defend herself. She had known that Hot Pie would be angry with her.
"You said you weren't leading him on, Arya," Hot Pie had pointed out.
"I wasn't trying to…I didn't mean to."
"I thought you liked Gendry. I thought he meant a lot to you."
"I do, and he does." Arya had given her friend a pleading look. "It's just, that I liked Jaqen first…"
"It's not about who was first, Arya. It's about who you like more." Hot Pie had sighed then. "But I guess we know the answer to that, don't we?"
Arya had felt guilty for disappointing her friend. Many times, he had been the first to offer support and kind words whenever she had been in trouble, but the look he had given her told her more than any words he could have said, just how much faith he had lost in her.
"I'm sorry," had been all she could say, "I never meant for things to turn out this way."
"No, I'm sure you didn't," Hot Pie said, seeming to believe it, "at least tell me, did Gendry ever have a chance?"
Arya had looked at the floor, unsure how to respond.
"Yes or no, Arya?" he had pressed.
"Yes, but…"
"But, what?"
"If he'd…I don't know. Maybe, if he'd said something sooner?"
Hot Pie had blinked at her, and his mouth had thinned in the way she knew meant he didn't like what he was hearing.
"I get it. So, he made his move too late, huh?"
Arya had looked away, remembering the kiss Gendry had given her backstage at the Battle of the Bands.
"You know what?" Hot Pie had continued, "Gendry has never tried to hide how he felt about you. He's liked you for a long time. It was obvious to everyone. I don't know how you didn't see it."
In retrospect, Arya knew that if she looked hard enough, she would recall the tell-tale signs she'd overlooked, misunderstood, or perhaps even chosen not to see. As Hot Pie had turned to walk away, he had said something to her that let her know that at least, her friend did not hate her.
"Arya, listen. I guess, I am glad for you. If this is what you want, then I can be happy for you. Just be careful, okay?"
"Thanks, Hot Pie. I will." Arya had given him a small smile.
"Oh, and um…Gendry's not his usual self, and I know it's none of my business, but maybe for a while…you could try not to flaunt your relationship with Jaqen in a way that attracts Gossip Spyder's attention?"
Arya had understood that Hot Pie was gently warning her about not rubbing salt in Gendry's wounds, and she would do her best to ensure it.
Her brothers arrived at Chateau Maegor shortly before dinner, with Robb having driven all day to get them there. Arya had rushed out of her room when she heard Robb's Porsche in the driveway, narrowly avoiding a collision with Sansa who had come out of her own bedroom at the same time.
"After you," she said to her sister, and followed her down the stairs.
She and Sansa were back to talking normally, ever since Sansa's breakup with Joffrey, but Arya knew it would still be some time before they would be completely back to normal. Given what she knew about Sansa's feelings for Sandor, she suspected that Sansa's awkwardness around her all stemmed from Sansa's perceptions about her and Sandor's supposed relationship.
Arya shuddered. Did people really believe she could have dated Sandor Clegane for real? She now just wished to distance herself as far from that episode as fast as possible.
"Where's Arya?" she heard Jon's voice echoing in the entryway.
"Jon!" Arya ran towards him and jumped into his outstretched arms. "It's so good to see you."
"You, too, little sis'," he returned, "how are you?"
"I've been okay," Arya replied, smiling at him when she pulled away.
"That's good to hear. Have you been keeping yourself out of mischief?" Jon raised one brow, and it was enough to let Arya know that her big brother had something on his mind. "You and I, we need to talk, little sister." He was smiling as he had said it, but Arya had a feeling she wasn't going to enjoy this talk.
Jon released her so that he could greet the other members of the family who were hovering around them, and Arya greeted Robb and Theon, who both looked at her in the same way that Jon had moments before. Arya then saw that Sansa was looking just as ashen as she felt. Arya sidled up next to her sister.
"Did Robb have something he wanted to discuss with you?" Arya asked in a whisper.
"So he said," Sansa replied, in the same whisper.
"Do you think they've been reading Gossip Spyder's posts?" Arya squeaked.
"There's a good chance they have."
"Oh…fuck."
Jon
He had been controlling himself all evening. Out of respect for his father and the occasion, Jon had been keeping a lid on the urge to question his youngest sister about the things he had been reading on that gossip blog. He hadn't been able to speak to Arya in recent weeks. Arya had told him about the gossip blog months before, and the only reason he had even bothered checking it out was in the hope of finding some news about Arya's school or events in King's Landing that he could ask her about, to show that he was interested in what was going on around her.
What he didn't expect to see, however, was that both of his little sisters seemed to feature much too frequently on this blog, and the most recent stories had made him swear loud enough to attract Robb's attention. When Robb had seen the photo of Arya holding hands with a boy that didn't look much younger than himself, Robb had insisted on digging through the blog archives to see what else they could uncover.
The stuff they found made for a riveting read, and when Theon had come back to their shared apartment and found the brothers glued to Jon's laptop, he had looked over their shoulders just in time to read about Sansa's newly single status.
"What the fuck?" had been their shared sentiment.
"How much of this shit is factual?" Robb had demanded. "What the hell is up with that public breakup? Why was Sansa bringing father into it?"
"I don't know," Jon had replied, "and what the hell is Arya doing? Just how many boys is she playing around with? First was this Sandor Clegane, and now some guy called Jaqen…I'm gonna call her now and demand she tell me what's going on!"
"Don't, Jon." Robb had taken the phone from his hand. "We'll see our precious little sisters soon enough. We can ask our questions in person."
From across the dining table that evening, while the family ate and talked amongst themselves, it hadn't escaped Jon's attention that Arya and Sansa were on edge, jumping to attention every time he or Robb directed conversation their way.
"Sansa," said Robb.
"Yes, Robb?" Sansa answered, almost too quickly.
"I want you tell me about something I've been hearing about," Robb continued.
"What's that?" Sansa queried, her eyes darting about nervously.
"I want you to tell me about this Blue Rose Song Festival. I heard you're in a choir, and that you'll be performing in the next few weeks."
Sansa visibly relaxed, and began to tell them all about the song festival. Jon hid his smile. Robb was teasing her.
"Arya," Jon said, after Sansa had finished speaking.
"Yes, Jon?" Arya looked at him, and he could see her brain ticking behind her eyes.
"I want to ask your opinion about something that's happening this weekend,"
Arya visibly paled, and Jon narrowed his eyes.
"What is it, Jon?"
"The high school football finals, who do you think will win?"
At the question, Arya relaxed too, but Jon realized she had reacted to the word 'weekend'. Something was up, and he would bet it involved this Jaqen H'ghar. Jon and Robb refrained from teasing their sisters further that evening, as they weren't out to make them feel bad. They were teenage girls, and teenagers were prone to exaggeration. They merely wanted to clarify certain things they had read about, and get the truth behind the stories.
Later that evening, a buzzing at the front gate had signaled the arrival of Uncle Benjen, who was greeted with much noise and hugs. After he had been served a late dinner, the adults and older children had gathered in the living room to talk, and listen to Uncle Benjen's tales from his travels.
He worked for Black, Crow & Associates, a geological consulting firm based in Alaska, where he was involved in mineral exploration, geological mapping, sampling and drilling activities.
"The scenery is beautiful, that far North," he told them, "for the most part, I enjoy my work. Except when I'm assigned to places that are always cold and snowing, so I'm glad to be down South where I have the chance to thaw out a bit!"
When the hour grew late, they called it a night, and Jon followed Robb and Theon upstairs where bedrooms had been made up for each of them. He had just finished showering when he heard his phone buzz with an incoming message. It was from a girl in one of his classes that he'd recently started talking to; a sassy red-head by the name of Ygritte.
"Hey, Jon. Did you all make it down okay? How are things with your little sister?"
Jon smiled. He liked Ygritte. She was loud and opinionated, and wasn't afraid to speak her mind. She had thrown her head back and laughed when he'd told her about the situation with Arya.
"You know nothing, Jon." She'd smiled at him. "What makes you think your little sister will tell you the truth?"
"I know her," Jon had said, "Arya has always confided in me."
"Ah, but the troubles of a little girl are quite different from that of a fourteen year old high-schooler. Just be prepared, in case she tells you to get lost."
In fact, Jon had been worried about that very thing, but he hoped that there was still enough of the little girl he knew inside this more grown-up version of Arya, and that they could talk the way they used to. Jon texted back with an appropriate response, and slipped into bed. He took out his iPad and began surfing his favorite sites…and waited. Sure enough, and as he'd hoped, there was a knock on his door before it opened a fraction, and Arya poked her head inside.
"Jon? Are you awake?" she stage-whispered across the room.
"Come in," Jon replied, "you're too loud. Don't go waking everyone up."
In the past, it had not been uncommon for a younger Arya to knock on his bedroom door in the middle of the night for a chat. Arya silently let herself inside the room, and turned to close the door quietly behind her. When she turned back to face him, Jon had a momentary glimpse of a seven-year-old Arya, dressed in baggy pajamas and her hair in a lopsided ponytail. He blinked, and the image was gone, replaced by a taller, purple-haired teen, dressed in little shorts and a t-shirt that had slipped off one shoulder to reveal the strap of a brightly colored bralette.
Jon rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired.
"Are you okay, Jon? I can talk to you tomorrow instead, if you're too tired, I mean."
"I'm fine." He smiled at her, and indicated the foot of his bed. "Sit down."
Arya climbed onto the space he'd indicated and tucked her legs under her. After a moment of fidgeting, Arya fixed him with grey eyes that held a challenge in them.
"Okay. I can't stand not knowing. I hate the suspense. So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"
Jon had to give her credit for coming to confront him first.
"Two words," he said, "Gossip Spyder."
"I knew it." Arya's shoulders drooped. "How much have you read?"
"Everything. Right from the very first post when you and the family first moved down here."
Arya swore, before she met his eyes again. "I don't know where to start, Jon."
"Well, you can start by telling me about this Sandor Clegane. Correct me if I'm wrong, but he's that big scary guy that was with Joffrey that time? The linebacker?" Jon hoped he had been mistaken.
"Yep, that's him."
"And you went out with him?" Jon all but shouted.
"Shhh!" Arya jumped and clamped a hand over his mouth. "No! No, I didn't."
Jon pulled her hands away from his face. "Then what was that photo of you kissing him in the car all about?"
"A misunderstanding! That's what it was!"
"So, you mistook him for someone else?" he demanded, incredulous.
"That's not it!" Arya was now scrambling. "It was all fake. We were only pretending!"
"Pretending?" Jon sat up. "Oh, I gotta hear this. Your explanation ought to be good."
Arya looked towards the door, as though fearing someone might walk through it at any moment.
"I'll tell you, but you have to promise you won't tell anyone."
"Not even Robb? Because, you should know, he's just as curious as I am."
"Jon, please." Arya's eyes were now clouding over, and Jon feared that her willingness to talk might vanish with the darkening of her eyes.
"Alright." Jon was prepared to compromise. "I'll promise to tell Robb only enough to stop his worrying, and nothing more."
"And you can't tell Sansa any of this, either."
"Okay, I promise."
Relieved, Arya rearranged herself so that she sat cross-legged on the bed. When she finally began to speak, her voice was low, quiet, and she spoke quickly. With each sentence that she uttered, Jon's brows rose incrementally, first in amusement, then in disbelief, and then finally, in total bewilderment. He felt that his eyebrows would disappear into his hairline if he could raise them any higher. The story pouring from his sister's mouth seemed so fanciful that it had to be true. Arya couldn't make this shit up.
He stopped her only once, when Arya had got to the part about Sansa and Joffrey's breakup.
"Wait, hold up." Jon put up his hand to indicate she pause. "Father and Uncle Robert seriously got involved?"
"Seriously," Arya said, "if you'd seen the bruise on Sansa's arm, you'd understand why."
Jon sighed. This was something Robb had to know about, if he wasn't already hearing about it from Sansa first-hand. After Arya had finished talking, Jon had found himself agreeing with Ygritte. He knew nothing. He had no idea that the lives of his teenage sisters could be this…involved.
"That's messed up, Arya," he said, "you fake-dated a guy, who actually liked Sansa, so that you could protect her from her now ex-boyfriend who turned out to be a real psycho."
"Yep," Arya sighed. "And get this, I think Sansa likes Sandor, but she's never actually said it, and anyway I'm not meddling again because I only end up messing up."
"But, it's just like you to meddle though," Jon pointed out, "you've always been like that."
"How do I make it stop?" she asked, a horrified look on her face.
Jon laughed. "Well, I guess now that you're older, you seem to understand that there are consequences to your actions. I wouldn't worry too much. You'll know when to control yourself."
"I wonder about that." Arya bit her lip. "I could have avoided so much trouble, if only…"
"What's done is done. Learn from it, and move on," Jon told her, it really was the only thing he could think of to say to her.
In any event, he was glad to have heard the truth from Arya, although his worries were far from assuaged. There was still this Jaqen character to deal with, and it seemed there was nothing fake about his involvement with Arya.
"Speaking of moving on…where have I seen this Jaqen H'ghar before?"
Arya had been expecting this, it seemed. "You saw him perform at the House of Black and White that one time we all went out."
"Ah, yes. So, he was that guy, eh?" Jon remembered that evening. "I remember noticing that he kept looking over at you the whole time. It's interesting. I actually thought there was something going on between you and Gendry."
Arya dropped her head into her palms. The action was accompanied by a mournful wail, taking Jon by surprise.
"Arya?" he prompted.
"It's all ruined…" she said cryptically.
"What's all ruined?"
"Our friendship." She flailed her hands in the air. "He saw me kissing Jaqen, and I've hurt him so much…now he doesn't want to be friends anymore."
"Oh."
"I was going to hurt one of them, regardless," she said, helplessly, "it didn't matter who I chose, one of them was going to get hurt. Why is all this romance business so complicated?"
"Because…us humans have something called emotions, and also something called hormones, and when you put them together it often makes for some volatile results."
Arya narrowed an eye at him. "Smartass."
He smiled at her gently. "Tell me what happened."
"Well, um…" Under the lights of the dim bedside lamp, Arya was blushing bright pink. "This is embarrassing."
"Then, just give me the abridged version,"
Arya sighed. "They both like me. I like them both, but…I think my feelings are pulling me towards Jaqen."
"Ah." Jon winced. "Poor Gendry. He was a nice guy. I liked him."
"Jon, don't make me feel worse than I already do."
Jon chuckled. "Look, Arya. I wish I could tell you that there was another way to deal with this, but unfortunately there isn't. I'm not an expert in relationships, by any means, but you said it yourself. Sometimes someone has to get hurt. The fact that you can empathize with Gendry's pain tells me that you do care for him, and the fact you don't like causing him pain means you've got a good heart. However, only you can decide what's best for you. Also, no guy wants to know that you chose him out of pity. That'd be a massive strike to his ego. In the long run, I think Gendry will be fine."
"Really?"
"He's a strong guy," Jon said, "don't underestimate him."
Arya looked somewhat appeased by what she had just heard, and Jon could only hope that his little sister would make the choice that was best for her.
"I hope you're right," she said.
"Have some faith, Arya." Jon then changed the subject. "So, when do I meet this Jaqen?"
Arya's only response was to turn an even brighter shade of pink.
Sandor
He woke up on Saturday morning with one thought on his mind; Thanksgiving was over. Thank fuck for that, he thought. He had nothing to be particularly thankful for, so the holiday held little meaning for him. Now that the day had passed, he could focus on the championship game that night. There was the bonfire to get through before that, however, and that was another festivity he didn't particularly care for.
His father had not come home, not that he ever did for something like Thanksgiving. Instead, there had been an email saying he'd given the housekeeper a few days off, and that there would be extra money in his account so that Sandor could take care of himself. His brother had not come home either. Ironically, he was thankful for that. In fact, Sandor could not even remember the last time that all three Clegane men had been home together for any of the holidays.
His father had thrown himself into his work pretty much after his mother and sister had died. Sandor thought he understood his father's reasoning. It was easy to forget about everything he had lost, when you kept your mind occupied with work. He wondered if it was possible for his father to have really loved his wife that much, that her death had such a negative impact on his life thereafter.
Sandor hated his father for being weak. He wondered how his life would have been different if his father had been able to show him any kind of affection. Although, he knew there was nothing lovable about him, or his freakish brother.
He eventually dragged himself out of bed, changed his clothes, and went to the training session that Coach Selmy had called for that morning. On arrival, he saw that there were no signs of the hangovers that he had been expecting. Particularly from Joffrey, who had been bragging about the fancy spirits his father had flown in for Thanksgiving. It appeared that Coach Selmy's threat about benching anyone who even remotely looked intoxicated from the championship game had worked.
They went through their drills, and the plays they'd been perfecting all season, as well as a reminder of what they could expect from the Dragonstone Academy team that night, before they were dismissed.
"All of you, don't do anything reckless at the bonfire this afternoon, and don't any of you be late to the arena. I want you all there well before kick-off."
Sandor ignored Joffrey as he left the locker room, and headed to the closest takeout place to replenish his energy before heading back home to waste a few hours before the bonfire. Once at home, he headed to the basement where he kept some exercise equipment, and began to lift some weights in order to keep his muscles warm. Inevitably, as it always did, his mind wandered to the little bird. Sansa Stark never strayed far from his thoughts.
He'd spent most of Thanksgiving thinking about her. While he'd sat on the couch watching television, he'd tried to imagine how Sansa was celebrating the holiday. No doubt, it had to include some, if not all of the typical family movie scene depictions of a Thanksgiving feast, with turkey, pumpkin pie and people who cared for one another laughing around the table. He didn't begrudge her that. In fact, imagining her happiness for those few moments had allowed him to escape his own loneliness, brief as it was.
When the time came, be grabbed his football gear, got into his car and made his way to Blackwater Beach. It was tradition for the two schools that would be facing off in the final match to host the bonfire, and when Sandor reached the beach, he could see that there were decorations in both King's Landing Prep and Dragonstone Academy colors dotted along the shore.
There were a lot of people already there representing both schools, and Sandor gave a nod to those people brave enough to speak to him and wish him luck for the game. Game days were usually the only time people voluntarily greeted him, he thought darkly. Looking around, he wondered if Sansa would really turn up, as she had said. The only real reason she had watched the games before was because of Joffrey. Now that they'd broken up, there was no reason for her to keep watching, especially as he knew she didn't enjoy watching the game all that much.
There was a peal of laughter in the distance, and when Sandor turned his head in the direction it had come, he had to admit his surprise when he found Sansa seated there on the sand with her friend Jeyne and the two cheerleaders, Randa and Mya.
"Hound!" he heard his name being called, and he momentarily shifted his focus to find his caller, who turned out to be Boros Blount. "We're over here!"
Sandor raised his hand to signal his acknowledgement, and turned back towards the group of girls in the sand. He found Sansa looking in his direction, and for a second he wondered if she'd turned around because she'd heard someone shouting his name. He was already turning away, dismissing the thought and walking towards the sand dunes to join the rest of his team when he thought he heard his name being called out gain.
"Sandor!"
It sounded like Sansa, he thought, but it was probably wishful thinking so he ignored it.
"Sandor," the voice was closer now, and still sounding very much like Sansa.
There was a tug on the back of his sleeve, and he looked down to see blue eyes gazing up at him.
"Hi," Sansa said, "I wasn't sure when you would show up. I was waiting, and luckily I heard someone calling your name."
The cool afternoon breeze blew her hair in her face, and amidst the salt and ocean scent, Sandor picked out the citrus notes of Sansa's fragrance.
"You were waiting?" he asked. For me, were the words he didn't dare say out aloud.
"Yeah." She smiled shyly. "I really wanted to wish you good luck."
Sandor felt something warm and fluttery in his chest, and he knew very well that it was the presence of Sansa, in all her ethereal glory, standing there at his elbow wearing jeans, a white sweater in some chunky-knit fabric, and barefoot in the sand that was the cause of it. It also caused a frown to form between his eyebrows. Her wishing him luck was easily explained. He had a game to play, and that was what people did. But, her deliberately coming to him…waiting for him…that was not normal.
"Thanks," he grunted roughly.
Her smile stayed bright on her face. "I'm sure you'll play brilliantly. You always do."
Sandor barked a laugh. "Coach Selmy would disagree with you."
Sansa made a thoughtful face. "It doesn't matter if you win or lose, it just matters that you do your best."
Sandor's mouth thinned, before the unburned corner lifted in a mocking smile. Only he would know just how truly he did his best in that game against Lhazar High, the match that saw Joffrey continuously sacked by their linemen, and his face kissing the dirt more often than it was not.
"Then that's what I'll do," he said, "I'll try my best."
Sandor saw that Sansa looked as though she was about to say something else, but at that moment, a young man with a pretty face approached them.
"Sansa," said the young man, whose pretty face looked familiar.
"Willas." Sansa's eyes widened, just as Sandor's gaze narrowed. "How are you?"
"I'm great." The guy held up his hands. "Look."
Sansa appeared to inspect him for a moment, before she brightened. "Your cane, you're not using it anymore."
Willas Tyrell, Sandor now recalled. Fucking, great.
"That's right," said Willas, "the doctor gave me the all clear. I have to take it easy, but my legs are as good as new."
"That's fantastic!" exclaimed Sansa.
Sandor cleared his throat, which of course drew their attention. The oldest Tyrell son turned to him.
"Sandor Clegane, if I'm not wrong." Willas smiled at him politely.
"We've met before," Sandor grunted, not returning the smile.
"Oh, yes." Willas looked as though he was thinking about it. "At the Battle of The Bands, briefly. You were with Sansa's sister, Arya, at the time, right?"
"You have a good memory." Sandor's eyes narrowed further still.
"I heard that you and Arya recently broke up."
Sandor's eyes were now glinting dangerously. "You heard correctly."
"Break-ups suck, don't they?" Willas continued to smile genially, seeming not to notice the change in Sandor or Sansa's mood at the mention of Arya's name. "Anyway, let's not keep Sandor from his friends, Sansa. The guys on the football team are in high demand tonight, and Sandor probably has a lot of people who want to greet him."
Sansa looked up at him apologetically. "Er…yeah. Sorry to keep you, Sandor."
Sandor didn't say anything, wishing he could throw Willas Tyrell into the ocean, resenting his presence and for butting into the moment he was having with Sansa. It was evident in the college guy's demeanor that he'd purposely come to take Sansa away.
"All the best for the game, Sandor." Willas gave him another smile.
A thought suddenly crossed Sandor's mind, and it was all he could do not to swear.
"Enjoy the game," he said, before he stalked off.
"Bye, Sandor," Sansa called after him, but he ignored her.
He was aware of the silence that followed his exit, and he knew that they were watching him walk away.
"He's as rough as people say."
Sandor heard the words that Willas muttered, and he suspected he meant for him to hear it. He walked faster, his mood darkening. Was Willas Tyrell going to be Sansa's next boyfriend? It was the thought that had made him want to swear in their faces, because it had been so obvious and he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. Gossip Spyder had hinted at it, and Sandor had seen evidence of it the night of the party for the Tyrell's. Willas Tyrell had made a beeline for Sansa every time she had been in his vicinity, and Sansa had not been holding back her smiles around the college boy.
Sandor joined the rest of his teammates, and Joffrey was the first person to speak to him. Unfortunately, the topic was Sansa.
"Look at that." Joffrey nodded his head in the direction Sandor had just come from. "Does she really think she can hook up with a college guy like Willas Tyrell?"
Sandor turned to look, because the part of him that enjoyed self-torment had not been able to stop itself. Sansa and Willas were now back with Jeyne and the cheerleaders, and joining them were Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon. The girls were all laughing and self-consciously preening themselves in the presence of the older guys, and Sandor wondered if girls ever noticed how silly they looked when doing this.
From the crowd gathering at the beach, he could see that quite a number of the King's Landing College Stags had turned up, and presumably, would be proceeding to watch the game later. He half-expected to see Gregor in the crowd, but as he hadn't spotted the hard-to-miss, freakish walking mountain that was his older brother, it was safe to assume he wasn't present.
Sansa was now giggling at something that Willas had just said to her, with her face upturned, and her posture relaxed. It should have pleased him to see that she no longer had that wariness about her that she used wear when she was with Joffrey, but Sandor only frowned.
"What would a guy as experienced as Willas want with Sansa?" Joffrey continued, "she's fooling herself if she thinks he's seriously interested in her."
"What does it matter to you?" Sandor asked, "you're chasing Margaery."
"I don't care if she's with another guy," Joffrey replied, "I just don't want her thinking that she can get someone better than me."
Sandor couldn't believe the guy's ego. Joffrey really thought he was God's gift to women.
"If Willas is chasing after Sansa thinking she's going to put out, then he's going to be majorly let down. She's as cold and frigid as a nun." Joffrey laughed.
Sandor knew better than that. Sansa was not frigid. The memory of Sansa's lips on his neck, and her hot little tongue on his skin was proof that she was warm, and had desires like any normal girl. If Sansa had not let Joffrey touch her, it was because he was a douchebag and she didn't want him to. Willas Tyrell was not Joffrey, and Sansa was not going to say no to everyone. If Sansa had been able to warm up to Sandor, who she wasn't even attracted to, then she could definitely warm up to the infinitely more handsome and debonair college boy. Also, Willas Tyrell did not strike him as the type to chase after girls simply to get into her panties, which made him a much better match for Sansa.
The fact that someone as thick as Joffrey had noticed the attention Willas had been paying to Sansa in recent weeks, meant that everyone else would have noticed it sooner. Sansa was younger than Willas, and inexperienced, so he would not be rushing her into anything. But, it would only be a matter of time before Willas would make his move. Sandor was sure of it.
His thoughts were broken when he saw three more young men approaching Sansa's group, and he watched as the two older Stark brothers, and their foster-brother Theon Greyjoy greeted Sansa and her friends. Sansa's brothers then took it in turns to shake hands with the Tyrell brothers, as well as Renly Baratheon. Sandor was not surprised that the college boys all seemed to be acquainted with one another. After all, money and influence moved in the same circles.
He continued to observe them as the auburn haired brother, Robb, made conversation with Renly, and then Willas. He must have been asking about the football team, because Renly indicated in their direction.
"You've got company, Joffrey." Sandor nudged the blond jerk. "Don't you think you should greet them? Your father's are still business partners, right?"
"What are you talking about?" Joffrey asked, annoyed at being interrupted from his conversation with some junior girls.
Sandor indicated the Stark brothers with the group on the beach, and Joffrey turned to find daggers being glared his way.
"What the hell are they doing here?" Joffrey swore.
"To wish you luck, that should be obvious," Sandor said before walking away, chuckling darkly as he did so.
Sansa
She hadn't known that Willas was going to turn up. Not that she minded his company, but his timing could have been better. She didn't know if she was going to get another chance to speak to Sandor. She hadn't been aware of her feet carrying her towards him, but suddenly she'd found herself tugging on his shirt. At the sound of his name being called, her body had moved on its own, and then she'd been standing in front of him, babbling about how she'd been waiting for him.
Robb had told her about wanting to watch the championship game, so she had been expecting her brothers to turn up, but she hadn't planned on keeping company with anyone else. The arrival of Renly, Loras and Willas had momentarily surprised her, before she remembered that Renly and Loras were keen football fans, were on the college team, and that Joffrey was Renly's nephew.
"Will Margaery be coming, too?" Sansa had asked politely.
"She'll be at the game tonight," Willas had replied, "she was accompanying Grandma somewhere earlier today."
Sansa had seen the curious looks that Jeyne, Randa and Mya had given her when she'd returned with Willas at her side. She knew what they were thinking, and she wanted to tell them that they were wrong. There was nothing going on between her and Willas. He was in college, and surely not interested in a high school sophomore. In any case, she liked Sandor Clegane.
Nevertheless, mere minutes after introducing Willas to her friends, they were completely charmed by the oldest Tyrell brother. Sansa noticed that the presence of the three college guys was attracting quite a lot of attention from the students of both KL Prep, and Dragonstone Academy. It's amusing, she thought. Everyone had this warped idea that she was Miss Popular, when in reality, if it wasn't for who her father was, and his network of connections, she would never have met guys like Renly, Loras or Willas. If she had been some other man's daughter, she would be just another anonymous red-head, whose life would be of no interest to anyone.
Having found out that Sansa had plans to watch the game with her friends, her football fanatic brothers had declared they would come and watch the game with her. Arya, she learned, had plans elsewhere and wouldn't be watching the game. Sansa had not asked, but she knew from the expression on Jon's face that Arya's plans involved Jaqen H'ghar.
When her brothers arrived and joined them on the beach, Robb, Jon and Theon spent some minutes re-acquainting with the Tyrell brothers and Renly. Jon explained to a curious Sansa that they had all met before, at inter-school sporting events when they had all been in high-school.
"Renly." Robb shook the offered hand of the dark-haired Baratheon. "I wanted to thank you for watching out for Sansa during the riot. It's a long time coming, but I wanted to thank you in person. Extend my thanks to Tyrion Lannister, too, when you see him."
Renly shrugged it off. "Don't mention it. I can't accept all the credit. Her knight in shining armor that day wasn't me."
"Really?" Perplexed, Robb frowned. "There was someone else?"
"Yeah, there was." Renly nodded. "It kind of surprised me actually, that he went to find her in that madness."
Sansa's heart began to pound in her chest. Renly was about to reveal something she hadn't told her family. The only person she'd told was Jeyne, who now gave her a quick sideways glance. Sandor's role in her rescue had not been forgotten. It had merely been overshadowed by the more pressing issues at the time, and Sansa had kept quiet about it because she'd had a feeling that Sandor did not want or need to be lauded for his actions.
"Who was it?" Robb asked.
Renly nodded in the direction of the sand dunes where the football team had set up their beach blankets and chairs. "Sandor Clegane."
Randa and Mya exclaimed their surprise, while Jeyne said nothing.
"Sansa, you didn't tell us," said Mya.
"Oh, my gosh…" gasped Randa.
"Clegane, huh?" Robb's expression cleared. "I've heard that name before."
"Yeah," said Jon, "I've heard that name, too."
Sansa was aware that her brothers knew exactly who Sandor Clegane was, and when they turned to look towards the football team, it wasn't difficult to spot his tall figure in the group.
"We were just talking to him earlier," Willas said, "Sansa seems to be good friends with him."
"Is that right?" Theon raised an eyebrow. "I assumed he was Joffrey's friend."
Sansa didn't deny it.
"We talk sometimes," she replied, "and, I don't think he's particularly close to Joffrey…"
"Maybe, I'll have to thank him in person as well," Robb said, looking at Sansa with an expression that told her he knew more than he was letting on.
Robb had been trying to corner her ever since lunch on Thanksgiving. He wanted to talk, and Sansa just wasn't ready. Luckily, their father had wanted Robb's company, and so far she'd managed to avoid having to talk to him.
"Speaking of your ex-boyfriend, Sansa…is that him, over there?" Jon indicated towards the sand dunes again.
"Ah, my young nephew…he's a handful, all right." Renly gave them an apologetic look.
All of her brothers were looking towards Joffrey now, much to Sansa's discomfort, particularly as Loras and Willas wore amused expressions on their faces. Joffrey must have noticed them staring, because he looked back, and his face froze for a fraction of a second.
"Handful is not the word I would use," Robb said darkly.
"If you like, I can call him over. I'm sure he'd love to chat with all of Sansa's brothers," Renly offered.
Theon started to laugh, and shortly Robb and Jon started laughing with him, lightening the mood once again. The cheerleaders of both schools were putting on impromptu routines, and Randa and Mya went to join the rest of the KL Prep squad in rallying their school spirit, leaving Sansa and Jeyne with the group of college boys. It didn't turn out to be a bad deal, in Sansa's opinion, because they saw to it that she and Jeyne constantly had snacks and drinks in their hands and that they were comfortable.
The local food truck owners had all come down to the beach to take advantage of the horde of hungry students, and between Robb, Renly and Willas, Sansa had just about all the nachos, corn dogs and soda she could handle. When the sky began to darken, the massive bonfires were lit. There were six in total; the two largest bonfires represented the two competing schools, and four smaller ones that dotted the length of Blackwater Beach, illuminating the students who were in party mode.
Firecrackers and fireworks were being constantly let off, which filled the air with the sound of explosions and loud pops, and filling the sky with brightly colored lights. On occasion when the firecrackers were let off too close to spectators, there were a number of supervising teachers present to reprimand the offending student.
"This bonfire is a bigger gathering than I anticipated," Theon muttered, "I was expecting a campfire and marshmallows on sticks."
"Everything in King's Landing is done on a grand scale, Greyjoy," Renly told him, "wait until the half-time show at the game later tonight. I expect there will be more lights and explosions."
Beside her, Willas, who was also studying business economics in college was engaging her brother in some talk about the joint venture their families had entered into, while Jeyne laughed at the jokes Loras and Renly were telling. Sansa pretended to listen, but her attention was directed towards the sand dunes. Sandor was never too far from her sights. Her eyes were trained to spot him, as though he'd been wired with a homing beacon. It was because of this sixth sense of hers that she saw what happened next, though she was powerless to do anything but gasp in shock.
There was a loud bang, followed by another, and then a bright flash of sparks as an object flew in Sandor's direction.
"Watch out!"
The shout of warning had not come from her, but it came not a second too late. Sandor's quick reflexes saved him from injury, and Sansa watched as Sandor fell back onto the sand, the rogue firecracker narrowly missing his head, landing several feet away where it continued to burn, pop and hiss amid the squeals of people trying to jump out of its way.
"That was close," Willas commented, observing the scene.
"Lucky for your friend, Sansa," Robb added.
Sansa didn't say anything, but continued to watch as someone from the team offered Sandor a hand, which he waived away. He got back onto his feet a moment later, and as he brushed sand from his clothing, Sansa felt relieved to see that he was unhurt, although the expression on his face was furious, and his mouth was moving with the curses Sansa imagined he was likely spouting.
A teacher arrived on the scene after the firecracker stopped popping, and the student responsible for setting it alight was quickly rebuked, and Sansa thought him lucky, as Sandor would not have let him off so lightly had he managed to get to him first.
Not long after that, the members of the football teams from both schools began to depart, presumably to make their way to Baelor's Arena, where the finals were traditionally held. Sansa learned that it was custom to play the championship match on neutral ground. She didn't see Sandor leave the beach, and she regretted not being able to speak to him again before the match. With the game set to start at 8 p.m. Sansa and Jeyne were driven to Baelor's Arena by Robb, where they again met up with Renly, Loras and Willas. Margaery arrived not long after, and by 7:30 p.m. they were all seated, and eagerly awaiting kick-off.
Looking around the stadium, Sansa recalled that the last time she had been at Baelor's Arena was for the Battle of The Bands. There was no stage or mosh pit now, instead there were freshly painted lines on the field, balloon arches in each of the school colors, smoke machines, and giant flaming torches on either end of the football field. As Renly had said, everything was done on a grand scale in King's Landing, and high school football games were no exception.
While they waited, Willas and Margaery began to talk about horses and equestrian shows, and Sansa joined them as the topic was something that interested her, but her interest was half-hearted as all Sansa could really think about was the memory of her kissing Sandor's neck that night, in that very same stadium. For a crazy second, she wondered if he would remember it, too. He won't be thinking about stupid things like that, she thought. He has an important game to play, and he won't be thinking about the stupid sister of his ex-girlfriend who threw herself at him that one time.
She distracted herself by wondering whether Arya was having fun, wherever she was that evening, and whether she even spared a thought for her ex-boyfriend and the match he was about to play.
The game kicked off at a few minutes past eight, with the school teams being welcomed to the field amid deafening cheers from the crowd that had turned out to watch them. From the start, it was apparent that it was going to be a close game. With the White Knights on the offense, they were able to score points in the opening minutes, and the King's Landing Prep supporters went wild in the stands.
The Dragons hit back with some impressive counter-attacks that quickly saw them close the gap in the scores. Sansa was on the edge of her seat, seeing that Sandor was being made to play hard in his defensive post. By half-time, the White Knights were leading by only two points.
"The Dragons are stronger than I anticipated this year," Renly said, "I thought for sure that the Knights had this in the bag, but now…I don't know."
Sansa was then made to listen as the guys discussed the strengths and weaknesses of each school team. Margaery excused herself to go and speak to some of her friends in the stands nearby, and Jeyne attempted to converse with her over the noise.
"The half-time show is about to start. You don't want to miss that."
"It's that spectacular, huh?" Sansa raised her brow.
"Well, it'll keep you entertained, you know?" Jeyne leaned in, before whispering. "Just until he comes back onto the field."
Sansa felt her cheeks flush, but she smiled in agreement. Jeyne was right. The much hyped half-time show were big, flashy song and dance numbers by performers from each school, accompanied by an abundance of blinking lights and a veritable arsenal of pyrotechnics that, by the time the show was over, left the stadium filled with a haze of special effects smoke. Indeed, Sansa was impressed, but she couldn't wait to see Sandor get back on the field. At the start of the third quarter, the teams were welcomed back with more cheering, and Sansa's eyes focused on the sideline to make sure she didn't miss Sandor's entrance. She saw him start jogging onto the field, passing through the wobbling balloon arch as fans cheered for him.
"Hound! Go get them, Hound!" they yelled.
Sandor raised an arm acknowledging his fans as he neared the giant flaming torch…just as it gave a sputter, and then a loud hiss which was followed by a fireball that burst from the top of the torch, shooting high into the sky. The crowd shouted in surprise, and a voice over the speaker called for calm as technicians immediately dealt with the malfunctioning torch. Sansa could only watch as Sandor stood in the same spot as though frozen, looking up at the column of fire still spewing from the burning torch.
"Is he okay?" someone in the stands nearby asked.
"He looks like he's in shock, don't you think?" Margaery asked.
"He'll be fine, he's a tough sonofabitch," Renly replied.
"Oh, look. He's snapped out of it," Loras observed. "Did I tell you about that time Sandor saved me from his big scary brother?"
"You sound like a helpless little girl when you say it like that," Margaery teased her brother.
Sansa was too focused on Sandor to pay attention to their banter. She watched as Sandor finally moved from his position, urged on by another teammate. Nothing had happened. He was unhurt, and Sansa was glad. However, when the second half of the game was finally under way, it was clear to Sansa that Sandor was not playing with the same ferocity as he'd played in the first half. She didn't know if anyone else could see it, but to her, his movements that were usually razor sharp, had suddenly become sluggish and hesitant. His defense game was suffering, and soon the Dragons scored enough points to take the lead.
"Clegane!" Coach Selmy's voice carried over the din of crowd, and it was clear the coach was not pleased by the sudden slump in his star linebacker's performance.
The coach called for a stop in the game, and Sansa watched as Sandor was called to the sideline, where Coach Selmy engaged him in a heated exchange. Sansa had seen this before, and usually, Sandor responded well to one of Coach Selmy's pep-talks. However, this would not be one of those times. Sandor was taking off his helmet, and removing his mouth guard. Sansa could see Coach Selmy's puzzlement on his face.
"What are you doing, Clegane?"
Everyone around them was asking the same question.
"What's he doing?" Robb asked.
"Beats me," Renly replied.
The set of Sandor's shoulders had changed, as had the expression on his face. He looked around the smoke-hazy stadium at that moment, but he didn't appear to be noticing the crowd. His expression was dark, but void of emotion like she had never seen before. She was used to seeing anger, or displeasure…but seeing him emotionless frightened her. Sandor then started to walk away from Coach Selmy, who was still speaking, and away from the field.
"Get back here, Clegane!" Coach Selmy yelled after him.
Sandor stopped, and slowly turned back to face his coach. Sansa saw his lips moving, but what he said was lost in the noise. Then he faced the direction of the exit, and continued to walk off the field, abandoning the game.
"Did you see that?" Renly asked.
"He's gone…he just left," Loras said, puzzled.
"Can he do that?" asked Jon.
"Is he okay?" asked Jeyne, looking at Sansa.
Around them, the stadium had erupted into loud chatter and booing, while on the field the players milled about in confusion, as Coach Selmy was being forced to make the decision to substitute another linebacker in place of Sandor. Amidst the chaos, Sansa realized what had happened, and suddenly she was on her feet. It's the fire, she thought. A memory of a dark evening walking through a dark garden played through her mind, and she remembered Sandor telling her the story of his scar…and the fire that had maimed him. She bit back a cry, because she knew without a doubt what had happened to Sandor.
Please, she thought. Please, let him be okay.