I have gone back and made some slight altercations with this chapter simply due to some timing things I wanted to change in the oncoming chapters.

LOVES SONG

His hands run through what remains of my hair as the last of the black dye sets in. "It's good," he says, turning my chin to face him. "But they eyes may still be a dead giveaway." They had been a concern of mine as well. Their distinct colors will draw the eye, a concern I've carried my entire life, but hopefully the rest of the disguise will work well enough to keep people at bay.

"Even with your hair tied back you still look like a woman though," Sandor remarks, eyeing my tightly fitting leathers and trousers.

"It can't be helped," I reply. "It's easier to move this way. I'd like to have easier access to my weapons if someone comes up on us again as well." He grunts his agreement and we head out towards the next town in hope of food and information on Robb's forces. Now that we're getting closer north the news of Robb is more trustworthy. The last we'd heard the northern army was near the Twins, but this was months old information from before Robb's marriage had even taken place. Perhaps northerners will be more fruitful in our search. Hopefully I can get to him in a few months if not sooner.

For the most part Sandor and I travel in silence, our first and only kiss hanging in the air like a noose. The weight of that kiss holds my lips tight. Although I desire his closeness whenever Sandors skin touches mine pinpricks of pain sprout inside of me and I reluctantly twitch away. Joffrey's hands still possess my body… and I hate it.

It is only on occasion that conversation takes place. Sandor has grown curious about my abilities with the sword. Something about them being unlike anything he's ever seen, especially from a woman. I normally counter his curiosity by teaching him a skill he asks about. But he has now begun to ask me much more prying questions.

"Where were you born?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I'd heard stories about you long before I'd gone north. I'd always figured you were a northerner," he shrugs. "Your devotion to the Stark family seemed to ensure it. But when I saw you the day of our arrival you looked nothing like the rest of the people surrounding you. Your skin was darker, your hair was lighter, and your eyes…" He glances sideways to look at my mismatched eyes and I quickly avert them. "When I finally saw you I suspected that you may have even been a daughter of a grand house on the run."

I laugh at that. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm no Lady?"

He grumbles under his breath before kicking his heels into his horses sides, shooting off ahead of me. I quickly follow suit.

When we finally reach the outskirts of the village smoke and the stench of charred remains welcome us. The entire village had been turned to ash. As we ride past I recall one of Ned's last commands to find the Mountain who had been reported to be burning villages. I eyed Sandor warily as we trotted through; the look on his face confirming his thoughts were the same as mine. I believe the last time the two had been in the same place was at the Hand's Tourney held in Ned's honor. The two had nearly killed one another; and I had nearly joined the fight to protect the man riding beside me.

We make camp reluctantly, knowing that the next village is too far away to make unless we ride through the night. As the fire begins to roar so do our empty bellies; food has been denied to us for nearly three days now. I toss a pebble into the fire at our feet recalling the two brothers fight.

"Do you have any other siblings?" I find myself asking without meaning to.

"No," he replies, skinning a rabbit the size of my fist. He looks up at me quizzically before asking, "Do you?" he asks, clearly attempting to irritate me.

The blade of grass I'd been playing with stills in my hands as my eyes wander over to the fire. I reach out and pass my hand above the flame allowing the green strand to catch fire before I pull it back towards me.

"Maybe," I mumble, watching the orange blossom consume the green life.

Sandor stills, surprised that I've even responded. It's the first personal question he's asked be that I've even given answer to; it's the first personal question I believe I've ever given an answer to. He sees my unwillingness to elaborate and resumes skinning our miniscule dinner.

His boldness must have been encouraged by my maybe however, for a few minutes after removing the burnned rabbit from the spit he asks, "How old were you when you were first on your own?" He cuts the rabbit in half before passing me my measly share.

I consume a sliver myself before deciding to answer. "I guess since I was born. My mother died birthing me." I haven't spoken of her in so many years it almost feels strange to think back on it. "I was a ward till I was four…" images of armed soldiers flash through my mind as I recall the dark skinned woman who had raised me. I can still hear her screaming at me to run even to this day. Still see the gold and crimson armor that the men who butchered he wore. "After that I was alone," I finish, shoving another piece of meat into my mouth.

"Does anyone know who you are Eliza?" Sandor finally asks after a moment of silence.

I smile weakly to myself and giggle a little at the realization that nobody really does. Not one soul on this earth knows who I am, where I come from… no one except me. The few others that had known the truth are dead. I'd never realized how lonely that actually felt. How isolated and suffocated my existence really was. Until I met the Starks.

"The Starks saved me," I say, finally looking across the fire to Sandor. "They made me who I am," I smile as my vision becomes distorted.

I'm wiping at my face so I don't see him get up and move over to me, but I feel him sit beside me and take my free hand in his own. I feel him pull me close so that my shoulder leans into the center of his chest.

"No one can make you who you are," he says. "You are who you are."

"And what would that be?"

"A fucking spitfire bitch that will be a constant pain in my ass."

I laugh full heartedly before laying down in his lap and falling asleep.

0000000

The next days ride was long. To my relief the following village we came across was unburned and unravished. We managed to purchase some wine and cheeses for the rest of our journey at a tiny vendor in the towns square. That was when I heard it.

"That damn Stark boy sure is making his way south fast."

"Excuse me," I question, budding into the armored individuals conversation.

After sharing my portion of the wine with the fool he informed me that Robb and his army were only a two weeks ride from the town. A recent confrontation had forced him and his men to turn back north.

I searched out Sandor – who had been waiting near the edge of town for me – to give him the news. He seemed rather disgruntled at hearing the news than relieved.

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't respond.

"Sandor?"

"Don't use my name too loudly here!" he seethes through his teeth before leading his horse deeper into the woods and away from the village.

It dawns on me then: nobody knows he has forsaken his oath to Joffrey. People are going to assume he is a Southern solider once they realize who he is. Including Robb. I rush to catch up with him, hauling my mare behind me.

"I won't let Robb hurt you," I clarify. "I'll explain what has happened."

"Do you really think the honorable Stark fuck is gonna let me stay even if you do?"

I stop and so does he.

That's it then. He's not worried about Robb brandishing him a traitor or a spy. He's worried that he'll have to leave… and not take me with him. He's spent the last month protecting me… no… he's spent almost the last year protecting me. He watched after me in King's Landing and he's protecting me now. He's put himself at risk just bringing me this far. He's known the whole time that should he walk into Robb's camp with me it could be the end for him. But he still did it… he'll still do it even now.

I drop the reins to my horse and push through the brush till I am behind him. I force him to turn around and then climb up on my toes so that my lips can reach his. I reach up with my hands and pull him down by his neck so that my feet can reconnect with the earth. I force the two of us backwards until his back connects with a giant tree.

The shock in his stature slowly wears away as I deepen our kiss, running my hands down his chest and cheek. As his hands roam through my hair and down my back I feel that ember start to burn inside my stomach again. The same ember he nearly rekindled our first night out of King's Landing.

I pull apart from him so that I can catch my breath.

"I'll either stay with you or leave with you," I say through my heavy breathing.

"You would be safer with him."

"I'm safe with you," I insist, staring up into his green eyes I try and get him to understand this.

I pull him down again and force his lips to reconnect with mine. His arms tighten around my waist, pulling me into him causing my core to blaze brighter and almost burn through my skin. My hands entwine in his hair as his move down. His palms are cupping my rear, forcing me closer to him. It is then I feel his groan pressing into my neathers.

I feel a tiny spasm of panic course through me; my skin shivers and my hands start to tremble in his hair.

He pulls away from me and looks down on me with sympathetic eyes.

"Eliza," he says, so sweetly I can feel my heart ache. "Stop."

He pulls my arms out from around his neck by my wrists and holds them delicately in his hands.

"I promised you I won't ever hurt you."

I nod and feel a tear well up in my eye. Not because I am in pain or because I am hurt. But because I am so angry with myself for not being able to put the terrors of Kings Landing aside and let myself feel the things that I want to feel.

0000000

When we make camp Sandor refuses to come more than a foot near me. I can feel the wariness radiate off him. His concern for me is less helpful and more infuriating. It makes me angry with myself.

Why? Why can't I get through this pain? I've been through worse agony than this. Well… maybe not worse. Just a different kind. I've had limbs nearly torn off and poison coursing through my veins before. It is so much harder to get through the trauma of Joffrey's touch than anything else. His touch wasn't a physical thing, it was a mental breaking point… it shattered the person I was… it stifled the fire within me. But I know that if anyone can help me relight that fire, it would be Sandor. Sandor can help heal me… he already has in more ways than he can ever understand.

I toss my hunk of cheese into the fire and watch it melt. I wish that I could melt my pain like that.

"The singing thing?"

"What?" My head tilts up at his sudden vocalization.

"Singing," he restates. "Why do it? Since the day I first saw you in Winterfell you always seemed to be humming something. Even if you didn't seem to realize it yourself."

I smile weakly, embracing the distraction of the conversation. "I was told my mother loved to sing too. I suppose I got it from her." I nibble at the tiny crumb of cheese that's under my nail. "I was told she died singing to me."

"How long has it been?" he asks after the firewood is given enough time to crack from the heat. I look at him questioningly. "Since you last sang?" he clarifies.

The distraction is gone at the recollection of Joffrey's body on mine. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself despite the heat of the fire only a few inches away.

"The first time he…." I stutter, "he took me." I snort at the sudden realization of how true those words really are. "He took me…" I repeat, letting the words sink in. "Not just my body… he took the only thing I've had with me my entire life… He took the song from within me." The little prick had snuffed out my internal fire as well as my songs.

A tiny tear runs down my face when I look up to Sandor, his own expression forlorn, as though he wants to say something but can't come up with the words. I can feel it… see it in him then. All of his feelings he has for me are so clear in those eyes. Those pained, agonizing eyes.

Without realizing I'm up on my feet and standing above him, my hands on his cheeks, caressing the scars. He reaches up and engulfs my hand in his, stroking his thumb over my own scared skin. His touch awakens the tingles and the roaring, forcing me to lean down and kiss him.

When I pull away I am seated in his lap, his harms supporting me by my lower back as my own wrap around his neck.

"Help me," I whisper.

"How?"

"Help me find me again," I say, a tear slipping down my cheek before he wipes it away. "Help me forget the pain that he has left in me." I caress his cheek. "Help me sing."

The need I feel is so strong and urgent I don't give him time to reply to my request. I pull myself closer to him, engulfing his mouth with my own. His reply doesn't need to be vocalized as his arms pull me in closer so that I can feel his heart thundering against my collar bone.

His hands move slowly up my back till they're in my hair, attempting to enwrap in the short strands. Slowly they move down and around my face, cupping my cheeks so that I can feel their coolness against my burning flesh. They move down even further till they are just above my chest where the lacings of my leather vest start. He pulls his face away from my own, asking with his eyes if it's okay. I nod and his fingers grab hold of the strings that bind me slowly pulling them apart. When it is free he tosses it to the side allowing my loose fitted shirt to dangle haphazardly off my shoulders.

I feel his body shiver slightly beneath me as his hands reach under my shirt, passing over scars and skin till they are on my breasts. I feel my nipples immediately harden under his touch.

I can tell his control is wavering as his lips move to my neck, adorning it with kisses and licks till I hear myself do something I've never done before: moan. I'm moaning in pleasure.

"Eliza," he whispers my name into my neck and I feel another new sensation as my neathers tremble.

He tugs my shirt up over my head before picking me up and laying me on the matt beneath us so that he can straddle over me. His gaze flashes across my naked torso before his fingers start to work at the laces on my trousers.

When he feels my body begin to shutter he stops and leans down so his forehead is on mine. "I won't hurt you," he whispers.

"I know."

He takes my hands from my sides and places them on his chest which I only now realize is bare. I feel his burning skin beneath my fingertips and I trace them through his rough chest hair. As I explore him, familiarizing myself with his body he resumes removing my trousers, kissing my fingers anytime a shiver takes over, whispering reassurances. Once the pants are removed and I am completely bare before him – scars, bruising, and all for him to see – he comes back up and kisses my lips tenderly.

"Let me know if you want to stop," he says before trailing a line of kisses from my lips to my left breast.

I whimper a little as he takes my left nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling around the erect piece of flesh. I'm so distracted by the feeling that I don't realize his hand has moved down to my entrance. He strokes at my folds slowly, easing his way deeper but not fully entering. Slowly, they move up and I question where he is taking his hands when I let out a cry, my back arching up into the air.

He smiles into my breast as his fingers continue to stroke the area that has my head spinning and my body on fire. The tingling sensation consumes me and I find myself mumbling Sandors name under my breath.

He must take that as a cue for he removes his mouth from my breast and trails more kisses down my stomach, past my naval and to… another wave of pleasure erupts inside of me as his mouth replaces his fingers. Without realizing I find my hands in his hair. It doesn't take long for a tightening to take hold of my stomach and a burning to erupt stretching down to where his mouth touches.

"Sandor," I pant out as my body convulses.

My hands fall away as the sensation dissipates and I try and calm my breathing. Sandor removes his mouth and looks up at me.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Strangely, I laugh. "Yes," I manage to say between the joyful giggles. "More than alright I think."

"Good," Sandor says, an animalistic tone to his voice as he comes up and kisses me. I taste myself on him and wrap my arms around him, pulling him down on top of me. As I feel his weight on me I feel something else press into my abdomen. Realizing what it is I release his lips and stare into his eyes.

"Free me," I say.

Without hesitation Sandor readjusts himself so that his erect member is at my opening. He eyes me once more to insure that I'm alright.

I feel him enter and fill me. A moan of pleasure exits his lips as he leans forward and goes deeper.

"Eliza," he breathes, and I feel him throb inside of me. I moan along with him at the feeling.

When he begins to move the sensation grows even more intoxicating. The feeling of him inside of me makes me cry out in ecstasy as his hands hold onto my hips. Unconsciously my hips begin to match his thrust, forcing our bodies to crash together at the same instant. With each impact he lets out a cry of pleasure. With each sound that escapes his lips my body trembles.

"Sandor," I breath his name out and he leans down – continuing his thrusting – wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck.

"Gods Eliza," he groans, his pace quickening even more so.

His thrusts continue to quicken as I feel him grow inside of me. He cries out my name one more time as the two of us convulse together.

He stays on top of me as we catch our breaths. He eventually falls down to lay on his side next to me, one of his hands still in my hair while the other lays upon my chest. He coils his body against my side allowing his nose to wrest inside my hair.

"I love you," he breaths into my ear.

000000

I wake in his arms with furs wrapped over our still naked bodies. We had fallen asleep almost immediately after having made love last night. I never thought I'd be able to have truth in those words: made love. After all I'd been through I didn't think I could ever feel the way I had last night.

I trace my fingers over his sleeping face. Outlining his eyes and the shape of his nose and jawline before running them over his lips. His wonderful, amazing lips. I lean over and kiss them gently so as to avoid waking him.

Sitting up I feel the cold wind chill my bare skin causing my nipples to stand on end. I search around for my shirt that I know Sandor had tossed somewhere last night. I tug it on once finding it and stop before I get the chance to even put it over my head.

What was…? That sound?

I hear it again and my throat nearly chokes on itself.

I open my mouth so carefully and slowly, hoping that what I'm hearing is real.

Whether near or far
I am always yours
Any change in time
We are young again

Lay us down
We're in love

Aaaahhhh

Aaaahhhh

Aaaahhhh

In these coming years
Many things will change
But the way I feel
Will remain the same

Lay us down
We're in love

Aaaahhhh

Aaaahhhh

Aaaahhhh

Tears slip down my face as I close my mouth, my fingers reaching up to touch my lips.

"Beautiful."

His voice doesn't startle me. Rather I welcome it and I turn back around wrapping my arms around his neck. "Thank you," I cry.

"No," he replies. "This is who you are. You have no one to thank but yourself."

"I love you," I whisper into his ear as he had done into mine the night prior.