A/N: Apologies for the delay on this since we ended on something of a cliffhanger last time. My only excuse is the holiday season and relatives visiting! I hope the length of this more than makes up for it, it was going to be two chapters originally but I didn't want to be too evil with drawing it out!

Chapter 28

He had not intended to speak of it so soon, certainly not on the very day that her brother Jon arrived at Winterfell.

They had agreed amongst themselves that he would give Sansa and Arya time to spend with their brother, and see how Lord Commander Snow might react to him. If it seemed that the Lord Commander would support his suit then Sandor had intended to ask for King Robb's blessing before Jon Snow took his leave.

Over the past four days they have discussed it and planned it as they stole their time together. It is a difficult thing to concentrate on talking when she is with him, but they have considered the possibilities and planned for them all, including escape routes and signals to use should her brother try to separate them. They have spoken of these things while sitting together or lying upon his cloak, curled around each other. While other lovers may speak endearments to each other during their courtships, he and his little bird have become better accustomed to speaking of strategies and battles. If the gods are good then it will not always have to be this way.

It is still so very new, to be able to hold her, press his kisses upon her and have his fill of her when there is enough time to do so. He will never have enough of her, will never be truly at ease unless she's in his arms or within his reach and he can't help but wish that she might be here now, or have known that this was to occur. He'd seen her just a few hours prior, helping her with one of her tasks to steal a few moments together of heated kisses and roaming hands and whispered promises. She'd told him that she thought her brother Jon liked him, and Sandor can only hope that she was right.

On hearing Robb Stark's pronouncement, he had realized that it was now or never, and steeled himself for the confrontation that must now take place. If King Robb were to announce that Sandor was to be granted lands and a title, only to have him run away with his sister, then it would be an even worse insult than otherwise. Sansa's brother is a good king and has been a good master, and Sandor would not cause him greater embarrassment than necessary.

The two brothers stare at him and Sandor pauses to take their measure, noting the differences. Jon Snow has more of the look of the North and the Starks to him while King Robb takes after his Tully mother in appearance. Yet there is ice and steel in both of their veins and a strong bond between them.

Robb Stark looks livid, a strong colour having come to his face, and his anger apparent. By contrast, Jon Snow is calm, considering, almost curious in his expression.

"You wish to marry Sansa?" Robb Stark asks, struggling against his anger. "I respect you, Clegane, and I am offering you a fitting reward for your services but you ask too much. I thought that I had made it clear previously that Sansa is destined for a greater alliance. I had believed that you understood me."

"Oh I understood you, but it didn't change my own decision." Sandor replies, careful to keep his cool in the hopes it will help. "Besides that, your sister has her own say on that matter and she won't agree to your alliances. I don't expect you to welcome me cheerfully as a goodbrother, I'm too lowborn for that. Regardless of that, I mean to have her as my wife, whether you give your agreement or not. I hope you'll choose to give your blessing for her sake, I would not have her estranged from her family."

Her kingly brother sputters while Lord Commander Snow continues to watch with a strange fascination.

"I had guessed that there might be feelings on your part, and I cannot blame you for it. Sansa is lovely, and any man would wish to marry her." Robb replies, "But I cannot allow you to wed her. Sansa's birth is far above your own and her marriage is needed to help keep the North safe. You must know that you cannot have her."

Sandor takes a breath, still calm but wanting to get to the point, to have it done with and his answer finally.

"What I know is that you're her brother, and so I owed you the respect of asking for your blessing. What I also know is that there's nothing that you can do to stop me from taking her."

He knows that the words are coming out wrong but he has no talent for diplomacy, that's for his little bird and her sweet tongue. He's always been plain spoken and there's no point in couching things in polite terms when he doesn't mean to stick to them.

"Are you saying that you mean to take my sister from here without my consent?" Robb Stark asks, clearly outraged. "I would like to remind you that the last time a Stark daughter was kidnapped, the entire Seven Kingdoms went to war. I have trusted you, given you men to command and a position of honour, I was prepared to make you a lord, and this is how you repay me?"

Sandor gives a harsh laugh, "I respect you, Your Grace. You're a good king, but all I've done these past months, I've done for her and her alone. I could've taken her away any time on the journey North without any of you the wiser until we were far beyond your reach. I've waited out of respect for you, and for her wishes. I swore you no vows of fealty to you, yet I fought your battles and helped you to reclaim your home. I've broken no oaths, though I might have broken your trust. You've been good to me, a good King, and I'd not do wrong by you if I can avoid it. But I will marry her, and if that means I have to flee with her then so be it."

Robb Stark stares at him for a moment as if he can't quite believe what the other man is saying and then sighs. "Clegane… I can understand that you have an attachment to my sister, but you need to understand my own position on this. My bannermen would never support me if I made the decision to give you her hand, and now more than ever I need their support. I offer you good lands, a castle and a title. With those you might marry any daughter from one of minor house."

Sandor snarls at that, his lip curling up. "Do you think if I simply wanted a wife I'd be here asking for your sister's hand, am I such a fool as that? Is Sansa is so easily exchanged for another? It is not a small thing for me, that she loves me. I had never expected it nor hoped for it but once she had given it I could never give her up. Keep your castles and your titles and banish us beyond the seas is need be, there's nothing you could offer me in exchange for her."

Does her kingly brother truly not see what his sister is, the lady that she has become? Sandor would wager that consumed by his own worries, Robb Stark has not. If he had, then he would understand that Sansa Stark is everything that a man could ever want, that nobody might compare to her. That she loves him… he will never take that for granted as long as he might live. King Robb believes that he still has a say in the matter, that he might withhold consent and have it mean something. Yet Sandor is secure, he knows that Sansa is his already, his by heart and deed if not by right. He's come to trust in her love for him and he knows she'll not allow them to be separated now.

"And do you think she'd still want you, if there was no castle or title or lands?" King Robb asks him, now trying a different tact to dissuade him. "My sister was raised in luxury and now you intend to give her an exile beggar's life. Do you think she'd still be happy with you once the money ran out?"

"Aye, she would, and I'd work hard to keep her so." Sandor replies bluntly, "You still see her as the girl you knew at Winterfell, happy with fineries and pretty things. If you look at your sister now, properly look at her, you'll find her much changed. We've been through our share of difficulties together already, she'll not back down from them. Ask her yourself if you don't believe my words. I'd hoped that you'd give your blessing to spare her from such a life, to spare her from needing to leave her family. Whatever life we might have though, whatever hardships we might face, we'll see them through. She's mine, and I'll not give her up."

Robb Stark moves to stand, anger and confusion warring on his face, but his half-brother extends a hand to stop him.

"Robb… Perhaps we should hear what Sansa has to say on the matter." Jon Snow suggests, looking questioningly at Robb Stark who gives a somewhat weary nod of assent. Quickly, the bastard lord commander walks to the door and gives the guard an order to summon Sansa before resuming his place and turning back to Sandor. "It is no small thing that you ask, Clegane. Highborn girls are raised to know they must marry for the benefit of their families, even Sansa was brought up with that knowledge. Robb had expected her to marry in accordance with our family's needs, and there is great need at present." Jon snow pauses then, "You are also not what any of us expected Sansa to wish for in a husband."

The Lord Commander raises an eyebrow and Sandor knows that he is being tested, by this stripling pup no less. Yet the lad has been elected to his position due to his own skills, and that's to be respected.

Sandor laughs at that, knowing the truth in Jon Snow's words. "No need to be polite and mince words, I'll say it myself. I'm low born, too old by far, scarred and ugly and most women would prefer not to look upon my face at all let alone kiss it. I've done terrible things in my life, and I've a reputation as a killer, a turncoat and even a kinslayer. Yet your sister sees past all that and loves me, whether I deserve it or no, and I'm not such a fool as to turn her away simply because she's too good for the likes of me."

"And do you love her?" Jon Snow asks, his grey eyes boring into Sandor's own as he touches Robb's arm to stall him from speaking. "What would you do for her?"

Sandor gives a harsh bark at that, yet he can't help but be glad that the younger man is giving him the chance to speak his piece. "What wouldn't I do for her?" He asks in return. "I'd do damn well fucking anything to keep her happy and safe. Yes, I love her. I've loved precious few people in this life, and she's the first I've loved since the time I was a boy. I'd die sooner than allow harm to come to her. No matter what your answer is, I'll not give her up. She's mine and you'll not separate her from me."

Jon Snow nods thoughtfully but Robb Stark frowns.

"Have you…" A colour rises in the young king's face then as he frames his next words. "Has her honour been compromised in any way? Is my sister yet a maid?"

Sandor bites down upon his own anger. He'll not dishonor her by admitting to what they've done; let her brother believe that she goes to her marriage bed a maid. He should have restrained himself till they were wed, but there's no harm in it, and he believes no honour is lost in loving the one that you intend to marry. She's given him a precious gift and he's well aware of the importance of it, but it was hers to give or keep as she wished and none of her brother's damned business.

"I'll not have anybody question her honour or they'll answer to me." Sandor replies instead, his tone clearly indicating that there's to be no more discussion on the topic.

Jon Snow coughs once and King Robb looks as if he's about to challenge Sandor's statement when there's a soft knock on the door and it opens to admit Sansa.

"You wished to see me, Robb?" She asks, stepping in. She starts slightly to see Sandor there and then looks back towards her brothers to see the anger upon Robb Stark's face and the more mixed expression upon Job Snow's.

"Oh." She murmurs, his clever little bird, quickly understanding what has occurred. She takes a breath as if to calm herself and then walks forward quickly to stand beside Sandor. Before he can even turn his head to look at her, to reassure her, she's already reached out with one small, soft hand, grasping his where it hangs by his side and bringing her other hand up to lay on top of it.

Without speaking a single word she has made her choice apparent and Sandor feels a rush of pride at the deftness and confidence with which it was done.

"Sansa…" Robb begins to say, a warning tone in his voice as Jon Snow appraises them silently.

"What has been said already?" Sansa asks, cutting him off. "Tell me so that I may know what I must say to you."

"I'm sorry it's earlier than planned, little bird." Sandor rasps, looking down upon her face. "His Grace wished to grant me a lordship and lands and I could not allow him to without revealing how things stood. I've asked him for your hand, he knows that I love you and that I'll be making you my wife regardless of his answer."

Sansa nods, turning towards him and away from her brothers and squeezes his hand between both of hers, lowering her voice. "You did rightly, I would not have Robb embarrassed in front of his bannermen. I would speak to my brothers privately, Sandor. Perhaps if I can convince them that my happiness truly lies in this and in no other path, they may agree."

He nods, knowing the wisdom in her words and leans down to kiss the crown of her head, ignoring the expression of outrage on her kingly brother's face.

"I'll be right outside," He announces, "Call me in if there's any need."

Their fate lies in her hands now and how well she might convince her brothers.

Sandor hopes that they might love her enough to agree.

/

She waits for him to leave and the door to be closed once more before stepping forward to take a seat across from her brothers with a confidence that she does not truly feel. She smoothes her skirts down, trying to compose her thoughts so that she might find the right words.

"Are you mad, Sansa?" Robb asks her with no preamble, his frustration apparent. "Clegane? Really? Could you not have fallen in love with anyone more unlikely?"

"Perhaps I am mad," Sansa replies calmly, locking eyes with first Robb and then Jon to let them see that this is no trifle to her, she is perfectly serious. "Yet I do not see why you would find it unlikely."

Robb snorts at that, and Sansa is reminded that he is her only slightly elder brother, barely into adulthood himself. "You must truly be blinded in love, then." He comments, "I believed that if you would fall for anyone it would be some handsome young lord or knight. Clegane is too lowborn and too old for you, and hardly pleasant to look upon. He has a reputation as a killer and a brute and served the Lannisters for almost longer than you've been alive. He's not the man I would choose for you, little sister."

"I know that you want the best for me, Robb." Sansa replies evenly, "And that you hoped to make me a marriage that I would be happy in. I tell you now that this is the only marriage that would make me happy. Just because a man is young and handsome it does not mean that he will make a good husband, I trust that I have learned at least that from my time at King's Landing. You have spoken of Sandor as the world sees him, yet you know that there is more to him then that. If there wasn't then you wouldn't have taken him into your service, nor given him a command, nor been willing to give him lands and a title. He is brave and loyal and a born leader. He has qualities enough if you would look to see him."

"I will agree that you are right on that count," Robb admits, "He has ample qualities for a bannerman, but I cannot understand why you would wish to bind yourself to him. You could choose from amongst the highest lords of this land, Sansa."

Sansa's eyes flash then as she struggles to frame her reply. "You forget, Robb, that I have already been betrothed to the highest lord of the days when I desired crowns and titles are long since gone, the Lannisters saw to that. You may not understand why I might choose Sandor despite what you know of him, but he is my choice. Is it so unlikely that I should love him when he has made every sacrifice for me, has protected me and saved me and loved me for my own self rather than my claim?"

It is Jon who speaks then, giving Sansa a gentle smile. "Robb knows the man well, but I have only met him today. He seems changed from the last time I saw him, but I wish to understand why you do wish to marry him. You are my sister too, Sansa, and while it is not my decision whom you should marry, I would wish to see you happy. Explain to me how it is that you have come to love him. For I can see that there is a bond between you, and I wish to understand it."

Sansa looks at Jon measuringly; while Robb has made his displeasure at Sandor's request clear, Jon has yet to make his stance upon the matter known. In the end it will not be Jon's decision and yet Sansa knows that Robb respects him, and may listen to his opinion.

And so, haltingly, she begins to explain.

"There are reasons why Sandor is the way he is, I will not go into them now. He learned to protect himself from an early age when all of his protectors failed him. He may be rough of manner, but he is true of heart and I love him dearly. In King's Landing I was surrounded by enemies with nobody I could trust and he helped me, tried to protect me with no thought of anything in return. He was honest to a fault, often brutally so, and he helped me to see the court for what it was and taught me to protect myself from them. He saved me more than once, with no thought of even any thanks for his actions. When he deserted on the night of the Battle of Blackwater Bay he came to my room and offered to take me with him. I was scared at first and refused, I did not know him then as I know him now. Yet he convinced me and brought me home to my family, and on the journey I grew to know him better. He taught me to be strong, and to believe in myself, to believe that I could be more than simply a pawn. Believe me, brothers, when I tell you that he never behaved improperly with me nor tried to win my favour. Yet I managed to see the man he truly is and the man he might be, and I grew to love him. At Riverrun… At Riverrun I realized that I loved him, after you would have married to me a Frey, Robb, I have known it since then."

"So this has been going on since Riverrun then?" Robb asks her, clearly shocked by how little he has noticed.

"No," Sansa corrects him with a small blush. "I knew I loved him since then, but when I tried to tell him, he told me not to be foolish. I knew what I wanted, was sure in my heart, yet he resisted my efforts because he believed I deserved better." She fixes them both with an iron gaze. "But there is no better, and no other for me, and when he went to fight his brother, I finally managed to convince him of the truth of it."

Robb shakes his head and passes a shaky hand over his face, as if unable to believe what she is telling him. Sansa supposes that no brother ever truly wishes to hear of his sister's love affair.

"Once he was recovered from his injuries we made our plans." She continues, "I asked if we might wait until after we were back in Winterfell, with the North regained and he agreed to it. I had hoped… I had hoped that you would see his worth, and agree to his suit. We have waited, in the hope that you would agree, when we might have fled at any point on the journey North. Understand, my brothers, that this decision has not been made on a whim. I have loved him for months, as he has loved me, I have made my decision despite knowing what the consequences might be. I do not wish to be separated from you all, but if I must in order to be with him… so be it."

Robb is staring at her as if he no longer recognizes her, and Sansa realizes that she has shocked him with both her retelling and her level of conviction.

Robb pauses, as if thinking how to ask his next question, continuing with only a measure of trepidation. "Have you… have you lain with him, Sansa?"

She blushes at that, unable to help it. It is not a topic that she would ever wish to discuss with her brothers but she wonders if it might tip the balance in their favour.

"I have." She replies gravely.

"Seven hells," Robb mutters and curses under his breath. "Did you do so on purpose, thinking that I might agree to the marriage then? Perhaps you might not marry so highly now but there will still be lords willing to take you. How could you do this, Sansa? Is nothing due to your birth and your family?"

"I gave myself to him because I wished to do so." Sansa answers angrily, unable to help herself. "And I care not for who would still have me, because regardless of whether I remained a maid or not, I would still have none but him. And you, brother, might have some right to judge me if you could honestly state that you and Talisa had waited for your wedded vows before you lay together."

Robb has the grace to look ashamed, and sighs, suddenly looking as if he is defeated. "What am I to do, Sansa?" He asks her suddenly, more tired than angry. "I had planned to make you a good match that you would be happy with and that could also strengthen our family."

Sansa rises to cross to Robb and kneels in front of his chair, taking both of his hands in hers. "You made these plans when you believed I could be happy in such a match." She tells him softly, "Yet now you know that I could never be so, and I say honestly that I will never marry any man but him. I do not wish to marry without your consent, Robb, but I will do so if needs be. Please do not force me to become estranged from you when I have found you again so recently. Sandor will be a good bannerman to you, a strong goodbrother who will stand by your side in all things."

Robb is moved by her speech, she sees it in his eyes, yet he still shakes his head. "Were I to give my agreement, my lords bannermen might very well take offense at it and I cannot afford that at this time. There is more afoot than you know, Sansa." He replies gently, "And yet when I planned matches for you, I did not know that you loved him and I… it is not an easy decision you ask me to make when the fate of the entire North rests upon my shoulders."

"But you are willing to think on it?" Sansa presses him, "Please, Robb."

Robb has opened his mouth to reply when the door is wrenched open, and they all turn towards it. Sandor Clegane still stands outside, and his eyes dart to Sansa where she kneels but he makes no move to enter, respecting her desire for time to speak alone. Instead it is Arya who darts in, forgetting to close the door behind her which Sandor promptly does so.

"Arya, we are having a private discussion." Robb tells her sternly, "You were not summoned here."

"No I wasn't, but I know what's going on and I'll have my say too." Arya declares, arms crossed over her chest. Sansa hears something that sounds suspiciously like a snort from Jon.

"Arya…"

"No you listen, Robb." Arya interrupts him, "I want Sansa to marry Sandor. He's a member of our pack now, he's more than proved himself. We'll never get a better goodbrother than him and he'll love her and keep her safe and happy like a husband should. He'll protect all of us if you marry him to Sansa." She pauses then and raises a calculating eyebrow. "And besides, Talisa thinks they should be allowed to marry too."

"Talisa!" Robb practically explodes, "Has everyone known of this but me?"

"Not everyone," Sansa murmurs, rising to her feet once more. "Mother doesn't."

"Mother will flay me alive if I give you permission to marry Sandor Clegane." Robb mutters, "And I certainly do not want to be the one to break the news to her that you wish to."

"I shall do that," Sansa offers contritely, "I wanted to wait until I knew what your reply was. Mother… she shall never agree. But you, Robb, you know that Sandor is a good man, you respect him. I had hoped that you might allow us to marry so that we do not need to leave."

"But you would leave if you needed to?" Robb asks her then earnestly, "You would be willing to leave your entire family behind, perhaps forever, for him? Your title, your claim, all luxuries? It would not be an easy life, Sansa."

"No, it would not be." Sansa agrees, "But we would be together, and that would be worth any amount of suffering. I have lived in a gilded cage in King's Landing, Robb. I have had my share of silks and jewels and I have learned that they do not bring you happiness."

"If they have to leave then I'm going with them." Arya declares suddenly, stepping forward to put her hand into Sansa's.

"What?" Robb splutters, "Now really, Arya, this is too…"

"No it's not." Arya interrupts without waiting for him to finish the sentence. "I'm not going to wait here and allow you and Mother to plan my betrothal to some lord or other who I might not even like. If you think I'll ever agree to any marriage I'm not happy with then you don't know me at all, Robb. I would prefer to go with Sansa and Sandor and be able to live as I wish."

Robb sighs heavily and bows his head, clutching it with both hands.

Sansa waits, wondering whether this means that they are successful, that Robb has given in and will agree to Sandor's suit. Yet Robb sits like that for a long time without speaking, as if attempting to find the solution within his hands.

Jon reaches out and places a hand on Robb's shoulder, squeezing it and Robb finally looks up.

"May Talisa's child be a son." He mutters, shaking his head.

"As if you were any more obedient when it came to your marriage," Arya comments indignantly but Sansa holds her tongue and stills her expression, waiting.

"I do not know what to do." Robb finally declares, his expression open and honest. "I want you to be happy, Sansa, I want to be able to grant you this. Yet the situation we are currently in…" He shakes his head again, unable to express it.

It is then that Jon speaks up, his hand still upon Robb's shoulder. "By Wildling standards they would already be judged to be married." He comments with a sad smile, "He stole her fairly after all, right from under the Lannisters noses, and she's made her own choice to accept him. I know that wildling practices will not stand here though and I have been thinking that perhaps there is a solution, one which may serve several purposes. Robb, if we may discuss this in private?"

Robb nods, his expression as if he is thankful that somebody might have an idea that would serve upon the matter.

"Thank you, Jon." Sansa tells her brother sincerely, briefly locking eyes with him. He gives her a small smile and still holding Arya by the hand, Sansa leads them both outside to the hallway.

Sandor is leaning against the opposite wall, waiting, and he looks up as soon as they exit, his eyes fixed upon Sansa's face, an almost painful hope within them.

The corridor is empty and letting go of Arya's hand, Sansa takes his, threading her fingers through his own and leaning her head upon his shoulder.

"Well, little bird, do we have an answer?" He asks her, tilting his head to kiss her once more upon the crown of hers.

"I do not know what it is to be," Sansa admits, "Robb says that he wishes to grant this to me, to allow me my happiness, yet fears the reaction of his bannermen. He is undecided. Jon has asked leave to suggest something, and now we wait."

They wait more than a half hour, in silence apart from the repetitive thuds of Arya kicking the wall. Sansa finds herself oddly calm, as if she stands in the eye of the storm. They have planned and agonized over this for months now and it is a relief to have it all finally said and done. Robb… she believes that he is beginning to understand, that now that he knows the depths of her feelings he will not refuse her. Sansa only hopes that Jon's solution will work, whatever it may be.

Finally the door opens and Jon appears to motion them all in. They stand facing Robb, Sandor and Arya to either side of Sansa, Sandor's hand grasping her arm as if to demonstrate his claim in case her brothers should forget it.

Jon moves to stand by Robb and her brother rises, a conflicted expression on his face.

"It is not what I had planned for you, Sansa, but you were my sister long before I was ever crowned King of the North and I have always wanted you to be happy. If your happiness rests with Clegane, then I will not deny it to you. You have my word that I will see you two wed and give my blessing to the match."

Sansa takes in a sharp, happy breath and looks up at Sandor, scarcely able to believe it. The face of her beloved shows a certain measure of happiness, but she knows that he has yet to grasp it fully. He has received so few favours in his life that he is always distrustful of them at first.

"Oh thank you, Robb!" Sansa exclaims, "I knew that once I told you the truth of it you would not deny me. You are truly the best brother that I could wish for."

She crosses to meet him and hugs him warmly, as he kisses her forehead in a sign of benediction. When Robb lets her go, Sansa reaches out for Jon instead, hugging him tightly, knowing that he has helped to accomplish it. "Thank you, brother." She whispers to him and when she pulls back there are tears in his eyes as well as hers.

Sandor is slower to move, crossing to meet Robb, and he holds one hand out in offering to her brother, which Robb quickly grasps.

"I thank you," Sandor states simply, as he grasps Robb's hand. He has never been one for long speeches or flowery sentiments.

"You'd better keep her happy and safe," Robb tells him, "You're a good man, Clegane, though it took me time to see it. While I may have had my reservations, I'll be glad to have you as my goodbrother."

"Aye, and I'll not let you down." Sandor promises, and Sansa can hear the note of emotion in his voice. "I'll fight your battles for you wherever they may be and keep your lands safe. I'll see that your sister wants for naught."

Robb nods then and with a final squeeze of the hand, they release each other. Sansa reaches out for Sandor's hand instead, grasping it tightly and barely unable to contain her happiness.

After everything they have been through, it has finally come to the ending she wished for. Surely it is nothing less than a song come to life.

Arya is grinning madly and Sansa smiles widely back at her, reaching out with her spare hand to gather her into a hug before Robb clears his throat.

"You will be married before dawn on the day that Jon is due to leave." He informs them, "Until then you will need to be circumspect, the marriage must needs remain a secret for now."

"A secret?" Sansa asks, suddenly plagued by doubts. "But why's that, Robb? And what was Jon's solution to your difficulties?"

"There's still some details to be worked out, but I will tell you before the wedding takes place, once all is set." Robb replies, "Please trust me when I say that everything will all work out for the best, I simply need to work out some details before speaking of it."

"I trust you, Robb." Sansa says softly, "And if you say it is for the best then I will accept it, but how might I prepare for my wedding before then?"

Robb smiles at her then and there is a trace of sadness within it. "I regret that I cannot arrange your marriage as I might have wished, Sansa. There will not be the gown that you would have wanted, nor the feast, circumstances prevent it. But I will stand with you in the godswood and remove your maiden's cloak, and Clegane shall drape his own cloak around your shoulders."

"And that is enough for me, Robb." Sansa tells him sincerely, her eyes shining as she pictures the long awaited moment. That her family will bless her and be with her in her wedding is a thousand times better than a proper gown or a feast.

In the end, it is more than she had ever hoped for.

/

Sarah: Thank you so much! I don't generally have a plan as to how many POVs there should be for each character, generally it ends up being a matter of what needs to be shown and whose thoughts/feelings it would be better to portray it from! Hope you enjoyed the Sandor in this one!

Jezz: Sorry for the delay on it! I hope the length makes up for that!

Reba: Thank you!

Froggy123: I'd actually intended to update much sooner before real life got in the way! A little suspense is always good for us ;)

Guest: Sorry for the delay on this, hope you'll like it!