Thank you everyone for the reviews!
Sansa begins to tremble and casts a fleeting look at Sandor, who casually reaches for his short sword underneath his robes. "You're alright little bird," he rasps low to her, anger glittering in his eyes, his knuckles gripping the hilt firmly.
Bringing his left hand up to the small of her back, he casually steers her toward the cabin, away from the approaching group of soldiers. "No place to get away. They'll be on us soon, wife, just act calmly." Smiling tautly, Sansa looks into his eyes and the calm she sees in his face at once soothes her frayed nerves. "I will, love, I promise."
The captain of the guard, distinguishable to Sandor by his elaborate armor, calls out to them. "You there, stop! We have yet to see you people here, come forward at once." Sandor eyes the man warily, trying to decide if he has met the man before in training.
Satisfied he has not, Sandor gently maneuvers Sansa to face the men. "What business takes you away in such a hurry?" The captain barks at them. Stiffening, Sansa glances at Sandor once more and nods slightly.
Elder brother steps forward, physically placing himself in between the soldiers and the couple."Ser, this is the couple that suffered the ague infection. It is best for you not to come too close, as the woman nearly succumbed to her illness. She may yet be contagious even though some time has passed. I recommend you proceed with caution; you men can ill afford an epidemic among your ranks while on such important royal business."
"If she's so sick how is she able to work with you?" One of the other men calls out glaring at Sansa in such a way Sandor's throat tightens with rage. "You men, hold your tongues. My first officer asks a good question, holy man. How is it she is working?"
Sansa smiles winningly at the captain and pats Elder brother on the back. "Milord, many pardons. Small folk as us don't mean any disrespect and all this fuss is for naught. I just got well as of late and I'm weak as a kitten. Elder brother here says a bit o'fresh air is good for getting back your strength so I insisted on helping him today. You can call me Sarah, and this is my husband." Coughing, Sandor ill suppresses a laugh at his wife's attempt at peasant talk.
Squinting at her, the captain looks over Sandor, taking in his imposing size and threatening demeanor. "Is this man your husband? He has the look of a fighting man."
"Yes milord. We're only wed two moons and a fighter he once was, but he's changing, slow but sure with the brother's help." Sansa smiles again, patting Sandor's forearm. Sandor clears his throat once more, struggling to suppress his laughter.
"Why does he not speak? Is he mute?"
"I can speak, the name's Edric," Sandor growls low, suddenly angered by the man's insolent tone.
"He had an accident that makes his voice raspy-like so he don't say too much. The brothers here have been so good to us, treating our ills. He's also trying to honor the way here by being quiet to show respect and all. We're learnin' some about the gods as well and do what little we can to earn our keep."
"What is your profession here?"
"Gravedigger and sometime blacksmith," Sandor grunts, pulling Sansa nearer as the captain steps forward, eyeing Sansa closely. The man stares at her unabashedly, taking in her obvious beauty and simple clothing before commenting, "A lovely girl, lovely indeed. You're not quite smallfolk but not highborn either, are you Sarah? Where are the two of you from originally?"
"North, milord. In fact I was born not far from the great castle of Winterfell. Make no mistake, we are smallfolk and wouldn't want you to think we're reaching above our place. It's on account of the way I talk you think other," Sansa grins proudly. "My mama was from the Riverlands and lived in a great house there, one that served House Tully. She took pains to teach me how to speak properly-well, most times I do. I've been away from her a while so I forget once in a while."
"That's quite all right, young lady," the captain nods to her, grinning at his first officer, who is openly staring at her with all his might. "She did well by you. You are most charming, my dear. A simple blacksmith and gravedigger is most fortunate to have you."
"Oh thank you kindly, milord. I am the lucky one, you best believe," Sansa smiles up at Sandor, who only grunts out a laugh, watching Sansa wind the captain around her finger while praising her husband.
"We are here looking for a wanted man, the Imp, Tyrion Lannister. He is charged with the murder of King Joffrey Baratheon and is a fugitive reported to be in these lands."
"We haven't seen no imp on this Isle," Sandor rasps low.
"My husband speaks truly. The only folks we've seen since we got here are the brothers. I wish we could be more help to you," Sansa frowns, feigning disappointment. "Please forgive us but I'm feeling poor and need to rest a bit. Is that all, milord?"
"Yes, Sarah, for now. You both may return to your quarters. We will find you should we need anything further," the captain smiles and motions for his men to step aside for them.
"Thank you kindly milord. Good day," Sansa smiles. Ignoring the leering soldiers, she holds her head high and walks past the men on Sandor's arm without giving them so much as a glance. The men follow her figure all too eagerly, only to quickly turn away when they meet Sandor's murderous glare.
Elder brother holds his hand up to the soldiers. "You men are guests here on the Quiet Isle as well. You best keep that fact in the forefront of your thoughts if you wish to stay here. It is not proper for you to stare lasciviously at a young married woman in this holy place, regardless of how you behave in King's Landing. I must insist you give Sarah the honor which is due her and respect the sanctity of their union."
"Beg pardon, Elder brother," the captain approaches Elder brother, speaking low. "They meant no harm, I am sure. It has been some time since they have been in female company and have forgotten their manners, so it would seem. I will make sure their behavior remains honorable while we are here."
"See that you do," Elder brother responds coolly. "Have you nothing to say to the young lady?"
The captain turns to Sansa, bowing low. "I beg pardon, my lady. Please forgive my men."
Glancing at Sandor, she replies, "I believe it's my husband's pardon you should be asking for."
"Quite right, my lady. Edric, please accept my apologies on behalf of my men. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't," Sandor growls menacingly. "None of you speak to her again, you hear?"
"Of course. She will not be disturbed again, you have my word."
Elder brother smiles tersely. "You are most fortunate Edric is a penitent man." Turning to the couple he says, "Please, Edric, Sarah join me in your quarters, I have some more medicines for you," he smiles at the couple, motioning for them to follow.
Sheepishly the soldiers retreat to the dining hall as Sandor and Sansa follow Elder brother back to the cabin. Once inside, Sandor bolts the door closed. "Buggering bastards! If it wasn't for you Elder brother, I would have torn them limb from limb."
"Thank the Seven we are free of them. Sandor, you did very well under such trying circumstances. Before I became a brother of the Seven, I doubt I would have done half so well with such louts."
Turning to Sandor, Elder brother places his arm on Sandor's shoulder. "You both are aware this is a holy place and I cannot condone any violence here as a man of the Seven," he sighs, "But as a man once joined to a woman in heart as well as body, I must say to you: do not hold back here, Sandor, from protecting your wife. The Seven expect you to defend your wedded wife and your sacred union and I will not condemn you doing so in any way you see fit. Do I make myself understood?"
Grinning wickedly, Sandor nods. "I understand you perfect, Elder brother," he says, and before Sansa can protest he moves his robes to show the swords strapped to his thighs. Chuckling, Elder brother slaps him on the back, "There's a good lad. Now then, I think it would be the safest course to have you both disappear for a bit and give the soldiers a chance to forget about Sansa."
"Yes, yes that sounds like a good idea," Sansa readily agrees. "But where can we go?"
"The unexpected arrival of the soldiers has taxed our resources here in a most unexpected way. The sept is running low on food stuffs and other supplies and we shall need volunteers to travel to Maidenpool to restock our provisions sooner than would typically be needed. Would you both be willing to go? The trip is a bit arduous and may take a week or more."
"Aye, anything to get out of here for a bit," Sandor grunts low. "We'll need a wagon. Maiden will follow Stranger's lead and though it's been a while they've been trained to harness. After they adjust I expect we should be fine with them."
"Excellent. I will have Brother McCann prepare the wagon at once. Septon Meribald will give you a list of our needs and the coinage for the purchase. I will personally see to your provisions and please, take all the furs and any essentials you consider necessary from the cabin as well."
"You are very kind, Elder brother. We are so very grateful to you and the old gods and the new, for everything."
"Think nothing of it, my dear. You do us a great service by volunteering to make this journey. Allow me to bring you some refreshment while your things are made ready," Elder brother smiles and then winks. "Sandor, it would be wise to wear your light armor under your robes and pack any weapons you believe essential."
"I always do," Sandor's face twitches into a half-smile, amused to hear a holy brother of the Seven encouraging him to arm himself. The holy man is nothing like he expected when they first arrived, and Sandor must admit Elder brother is unlike any other religious person he has met. Slowly he is beginning to feel he may in fact trust the man enough to seek his advice once he returns.
"Lady Sansa, with Sandor's permission, I will find you a pair of men's breeches and shirt, as well as a coat and hat. It will go easier for the both of you if you dress as a squire."
Sandor nods in agreement. "Tie up your hair lass. That should do nicely, at least from a distance. We'll keep a fur around your shoulders, too, to hide your womanly shape."
"Yes, that would be fine. I'll make haste to gather our things," Sansa smiles broadly, hurrying to pack their few belongings as Elder brother leaves the cabin.
"Oh Sandor, the gods have provided for us again! Just think, we will be able to leave without any problems since we are sent on an errand by the brothers," she beams at him, folding the furs from the bed and stacking them into a neat pile.
"Aye, lass, though the trip to Maidenpool is not an easy one, that. It's a rough place since the war no doubt, and we best keep our wits about us. Dangerous men are likely afoot, so you best keep your head down and close to me, understood?"
"Of course, Sandor. I'm just so relieved we will be away from the soldiers," she shudders involuntarily, thinking of the way the men leered at her.
"Are you now? You should have let me carve out their eyes then," he grins roguishly at her before suddenly turning serious. "Any of them do such again and they're all as good as dead. I'll not think twice."
Wrapping her arms around his waist, Sansa smiles up at him sadly. "I know, my love. You always keep me safe and that was terribly disrespectful. I would not have stopped you back there, you must know that."
Sighing, he pulls her close. "If this bunch goes missing, the Lannisters will only send more soldiers, just like they did with Bronn and Gregor. It's better if we fool them for a while and not risk more coming here. We'll travel to Maidenpool, get the supplies, and by the time we return they will most likely all be out in the countryside searching for the Imp."
"Why do you suppose they would look for him here of all places?"
"I've wondered that myself. It makes no sense at all, unless they are just doing it to appease Cersei and Tywin."
"I wonder if Jaime has heard it in my brother's camp," Sansa tisks lightly. "You know, I heard it said more than once that Joffrey was his own son. If such is true, he is bound to take his death very hard."
"Aye, that he will. Cersei is the only woman he has ever been with and he is more loyal than even her own husband to her."
Shaking her head in disgust, Sansa swallows hard. "Thank the gods and you, my love, that I am free of them. I wonder what Robb will do now? Do you think he will bring his men to King's Landing?"
"I doubt it. The Young Wolf needs more support should he want to take the capital city. Tywin's not going to hand over his daughter and greatchildren, for certain. No, I believe your brother will be treating with the lords of the Vale and Riverlands first for a bit. He'll also need to handle that matter with the Freys. They won't forget their daughter's shame, though they have none of their own, the bastards."
Hearing the very name sends a sickening dread through Sansa. "Oh, don't I know it. I fear for my brother and Mother, too. He made a terrible mistake angering them, though I would never condemn him for marrying for love. Such is the way of our family, it seems," Sansa replies sadly. "Marrying for love will cost us dearly, no doubt, but I would not have it any other way."
Sandor does not tell her she has every right to fear the consequences of her brother's actions with the Freys, not for what they might do to her but for the hurt they would inflict on her family. He has sensed there will be a heavy price to pay for Robb's recklessness ever since he heard of his marriage.
Looking at her sad expression, he wants to tell her she will be safe, that he will kill every last fucking Frey he can find if they ever hurt her family. Instead he moves in front of her and takes the bundle from her arms and lays it on the bed. She looks at him questioningly until Sandor kneels before her and takes her hands in his.
"You say the word Sansa and I'll take you to your family. Bugger the Lannisters, the Baratheons, the Freys and the whole bloody war. The Warrior himself won't be able to stop us, if that's what you wish," he growls. "I'll bend the knee if the Young Wolf will have me and fight his war, little bird, if it will make you happy. I'll keep him safe, help him win back your home. Tell me and it's done, I swear it."
Tears well in Sansa's eyes as she stares at her beloved husband, touched by his gruff, passionate expression of devotion. He is at once the ferocious Hound and yet so very willing to do anything to secure her happiness. Sansa's heart surges with love for him as she stares into his deep gray eyes. "It is a beautiful offer, my husband and I love you for it," she begins, trembling with emotion as she kisses his hands tenderly.
Looking into his eyes, she continues, "Please believe me when I say no, I would not have us go there. Whenever I think of going to the Riverlands I am filled with an inexplicable fear, of what I do not know. It may sound strange but it never fails that afterward I dream of my father, who warns us to stay together and to go to Jon. I fear what this may mean for my brother and mother," she says wringing her hands. "Whatever the future holds, I will not risk losing you my love, not for anyone, not for anything. You are mine as I am yours. I love you and I would not sacrifice you for the sake of my family," she whispers, taking his face in her hands and kissing him tenderly.
Sandor pulls her close in a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair and inhaling her scent. "I'll do anything for you, believe that. Anything you want. Say the word and it will be done, Sansa."
"Thank you Sandor…I love you so much for it. What I want is for us to stay here for a bit, to stay out of this war until the time is right to head north to the Wall, to go to Jon. I know Father will let us know when the time comes. Then I will be ready to leave here, unless we need to go sooner, of course."
"Then that is what we'll do little bird," Sandor grins at her before kissing her soundly. "Let's get this stuff ready to go."
After a quick meal, Sandor, Elder McCann, Elder brother and Septon Meribald load the wagon while Sansa feeds Stranger and Maiden. Now dressed in rough spun pants, long stockings, a tunic and woolen vest and a heavy coat lined with fur, Sansa cannot help but marvel at her new-found freedom of movement as she goes about her chores. "You're the prettiest squire I ever had," Sandor grins as he watches her work, enjoying the view of her figure in trousers. When the horses finish eating, Sandor bridles and collars both horses. Cautiously he then straps on the leather harness and hitches them to the wagon while feeding them both plenty of apples during the dressing to make the process go smoothly.
The soldiers watch the proceedings from a distance without approaching or offering help. The captain takes Elder brother to the side when he returns to the sept. "Is it really necessary to send away your penitents for provisions, Elder brother? Is there not another brother available for such a task?"
"It is my decision to send Sarah and Edric to Maidenpool, Captain Manderly," Septon Meribald states authoritatively. "I made it a matter of prayer. It is not for you to decide what a proper atonement is for others; that is for the Seven to decide. The brothers here do not presume to tell you how to fulfill your duties and I would be most pleased if you would extend us the same courtesy."
"What has the couple done to require such an extraordinary effort for forgiveness?" Captain Manderly laughs derisively.
Septon Meribald narrows his eyes at the man. "They are sinners, the same as you. One sin is no different from another, good man. Lusting after another man's wife is just as serious as murder or lying or drunkenness, the Seven teach us. We all fall short and need grace many times, is that not so?"
"Yes, Septon Meribald, I would have to agree, though I dare say some sins are more serious than others, despite your beliefs."
"Such is the thinking of sinners, to be sure. If not for such narrow-minded thinking, the world would be a much different place. I hope to see you and your men at services on the morrow."
"Of course." The captain stares at Septon Meribald a moment, looking as if he may have more to say but then changes his mind, instead hurrying back to his men.
When the provisions are finished being loaded on to the wagon, Septon Meribald gives Sandor the money pouch and list, which he tucks inside his leather jerkin. "We'll return as soon as possible septon. No one will rob us, don't you worry," Sandor nods to the man.
Smiling, Septon Meribald makes the sign over the couple. "May the Seven watch over you on this holy errand and make your path smooth and safe. May good health and clear weather follow you on your journey my children, and that you will return to us better than you left."
"So be it," responds Elder brother, Elder McCann and Sansa, with Sandor soon answering in kind after a nudge from his wife. Taking Sandor off to the side, Elder brother whispers, "Do you read the stars, Sandor?"
"Yes, a bit. Enough to find my way," Sandor replies low, tightening his grip on the reigns while Stranger chomps at the bit, eager to go.
"At dusk, follow the north star off the trail and it will lead you to a little hut hidden in the brush. The brothers use it to pass the night on the road; you may take your ease there until morning."
"Aye, we will. Many thanks."
"My lady, you stay warm and dry and drink the teas I provided," Elder brother pats her arm.
"Yes, Elder brother, you are too kind."
After helping Sansa into the wagon, Sandor waves to the brothers. "Thank you men, for everything. We should be back by weeks' end, if we meet with good weather."
"The gods go with you both," Elder brother smiles as he watches the couple ride away.