I do not own ASOIAF. I do not profit from this story, nor would I ever seek to do so. All credit for characters and setting to the wonderful GRRM.

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Sandor breathed out a heavy sigh the next morning as he stood next to Stranger in the courtyard. He stroked the courser's neck. He had not slept much. The last words the little bird peeped to him before she sped away replayed over and over in his mind.

"Take care of the children, Willow. I may be gone for a while."

"Yes, my Lord."

He had become somewhat accustomed to the title he had once so despised. It was easier to not correct the small folk of the castle. He was barely more than one of the small folk. Second son of an upstart house.

"I will do my best. This dragon queen may kill me for who I am. I hope no harm will come to any of you through the association."

"If it does, it does. We would rather perish for knowing you, than live without knowing you. You have been good to us. Perhaps I could go with you and explain to this queen—"

"No. You need to care for the children."

"As you say."

He climbed aboard Stranger. The last time he had gone to Casterly Rock he had been a young boy, and he had left in the late evening on foot. He wanted to live and learn and become strong enough to kill his brother. Nothing else had mattered. Now he had Sansa. He would live to return to Sansa.

It was at least a half day's hard ride if he took the short cut through the hills. Best he not delay at all. He squeezed gently with legs, and Stranger tossed his head lightly as he moved to a canter. This was for Sansa. He thought about her song. He would know the ending of it one day.

The sun was high in the sky when the walls of the greatest castle of the Westerlands came into view. He could see the thrice damned Dornish banners waving. Of course, they would declare for the Targaryens. The Riverlands would likely come running to the Dragon Queen when they heard that she held Lord Tully.

He shifted, making sure that his hood was pulled up enough to hide his face. Who knew what the Queen's advisors might have told her? The Dornish watched him with passing interest as he approached the open gates. Stranger pitched his head and stomped as he was pulled to a stop.

"State your business."

"Here to swear allegiance to Her Grace."

The guards gave him a suspicious look.

"What is your name, my Lord?"

"Something to share with the Queen, not one of her lackeys."

The man made a move toward him.

"This man speaks truly. I will escort him to Her Grace."

Sandor looked up at the speaker. Ser Barristan Selmy. The man whose place he had taken on the Kingsguard. He did not ask Joffrey for the place. There was little he could do to to change any decision the boy made.

"Were you not also ordered to bring all men who were capable of fighting for Her Grace?" the knight asked as they went into the castle.

"Only one man in my castle."

The knight said nothing further as he led Sandor into the main reception room.

At the other end of the room on a raised dais sat a young woman with shoulder length silver hair. She looked up as they entered.

"Ser Barristan."

Sandor looked her over. She did not look like much of a conqueror, and he had not seen any indication of a dragon outside. Not that he was disappointed by that. He wanted nothing to do with such a creature if it existed.

"This man has come to pledge himself to your cause, Your Grace."

She nodded, lifting a hand to silence the group around her.

Sandor took note of them, recognizing the majority. There was an empty chair to her right, a chair with a golden hand on the back of it.

"Remove your cowl, Ser."

Not a Ser. He closed his eyes to hold in his irritation. He had no friends in this room as it was.

He lifted his hands and lowered the cowl after kneeling to the little female. This was to protect Sansa and the children that she had him rescue. It was all for Sansa. Sansa was riding north away from danger. She would be safe.

"Hound."

Sandor looked up at the queen.

"I have come to swear allegiance to your cause, Your Grace."

Ser Barristan stood with his hand on his sword that was partially unsheathed.

"Who is this man?" Daenerys asked, rising to her feet.

"The Hound. A very dangerous man. His brother killed Princess Elia and her son and daughter."

The silver haired queen rose to her feet.

"So, am I to be blamed for the crimes of others?"

The Queen's eyes were bright with a spark at these words.

"That depends. Did you ride with your brother?"

Sandor laughed cynically.

"I devoted my life to killing my brother. My greatest regret is that the Dornish snake accomplished it before I did. I heard that he suffered from poison for a long time. I suppose I can be satisfied with that."

The silver haired woman looked him over in curiosity. She had a brother as well that she would have known.

"Why should I trust you?"

"Why should you not? I came the morning after I received your summons, Your Grace. Surely, that shows my commitment to your claim to the throne."

Sandor remained on his knees. For Sansa. Her she-wolf sister and the boy were taking her north. She would be safe with her brother. He remembered seeing the bastard boy watching Joffrey and the kingly brother train from a window above.

She would be safer away from the fighting. The wolf bitch was surely right about Lord Commander Snow. She had always snapped about how wonderful he was.

"I will not condemn someone for their relatives. I am not my father anymore than you are your brother." Her purple eyes were soft as she looked him over.

Sandor looked her over with narrow eyes. She was a strange queen.

"You may rise, my Lord."

Sandor rose.

"I am happy to welcome you to my cause. You are welcome to go train in the yard, or get something to eat from the kitchens. I have a meeting with my council."

"Aye, Your Grace."

"As other lords arrive, I would like you to be present for them as they swear their loyalty."

"Aye, Your Grace."

"We will all know where we stand."

Sandor nodded. It was not a bad plan. She would be able to gauge the reactions everyone had to each other. She would be able to learn a great deal about which she could have very little knowledge.

He walked swiftly from the throne room. He needed to tend to Stranger.

The next days passed in a slow blur of monotony. Many lords of the Westerlands were coming and pledging loyalty to the Dragon Queen. Had Lord Tywin still been alive, they would not have dared. They knew what Lord Tywin did to those who showed him disloyalty. None of them feared Cersei as they feared the dragons.

The days passed in something of a blur. Nothing much was occurring as they waited to see which lords would come and pledge loyalty. Many lords had a far greater distance to travel than he had. He spent time training with the other men. It was good to have some more warriors with whom to train. He hoped the boys at the castle were continuing to practice their drills, though he did not know how much good it would do.

He thought of Sansa every day, wondering where she was, if she was safe. He hoped she was making good time. There was a long way north to travel, but with it only being three in the group—hopefully the trip would prove swifter. She would have no cause to stop anywhere as King Robert had felt the need to do as he traveled. She would not pause her travel to be feasted, but even so, the distance between her and her brother was vast. Nothing would be able to withstand the wolf pack with which she was traveling, and even if they could, the wolf-bitch was a match in rage for any man. He would never forget the way she plunged the dagger into that man over and over.

He wandered into the godswood, which was nothing more than a small wooded garden within the walls of Casterly Rock. Somehow being in this place made him feel closer to Sansa.

He leaned against a tree and sank to the ground. She said she loved him. She loved him. He would join her as soon as he could. He would be a loyal hound to her. He wished she was here so he could pass his fingers through her hair and hold her while she knelt at his feet. It was intoxicating when she knelt by his feet. He felt less helpless to her allure that way, though he knew in his heart that he became as good as her slave the moment he was racing out to fight his brother to save that little shit Knight-of-Flowers.

The sudden snap of a twig brought him out of his thoughts about Sansa. She was safe. With that direwolf, the wolfbitch, and the large bastard boy, how could she not be?

"A hound has come to a dragon."

He looked up. Under a tree about a hundred feet away from him stood a young girl in a cowl. His heart fell to his stomach as he saw the sword hanging on her belt. He stalked toward her quickly.

"You."

The wolf bitch pulled the sword out. He grasped the wrist that held the sword before she could make much of a move. He lifted her up. She did not struggle.

"Where is she?" Sandor growled. "Where is she?"

The panic was becoming deeper, racing through him like a wild beast. She was supposed to be with Sansa. He sent her with Sansa because Sansa would be safe with her. She betrayed her sister. She wouldn't have killed her sister, would she?

"Where is she?"

He let the bitch's mother die; there was nothing he could have accomplished by going so she had let him live so she could let something he cared for die. He felt the pain acutely in his chest at the thought that he might have failed Sansa.

"Where is Sansa?"

"A wolf can be two places at once."

Her gray eyes were clear, and her face was partially impassive. She stared at his face as though it were a painting.

"Did you kill your sister?" He would kill her if she killed Sansa. He knew she had thought of killing Sansa. It had been so easy to see it in her, having known it in himself. He never thought she would act upon it. "Where is she?"

"A pretty bird still sings as her tears freeze on a northern flight."

He lowered her to the ground, keeping his hold on her wrist. Where was she? Was she alright?

"A wolf joins a girl by the night."

"Speak plainly." He gave her a rough shake. "No nonsense."

A noticeable shift occurred in her eyes. Some of their old fire reasserted itself.

"I would not hurt my sister. Sansa is fine."

"Why are you here?" She ought to be with Sansa, keeping her safe. He wanted to shake the girl for leaving Sansa. Sansa was not strong in the way of these things. She was strong in her mind and resilience.

"Lords of rivers and melted castles come to swear fealty to the Queen."

"That is not what I meant." Sandor gave her another shake.

"I serve the true Queen. She is waiting for us."

Sandor released her, and she sheathed the sword. She looked into his face some more.

"I see Sansa every night. I will be rejoining her soon."

The wolf bitch turned and walked calmly toward the exit of the godswood. How could she see Sansa every night if Sansa was traveling north? Unless Sansa was correct and the wolf was a connection to her sister. He remembered a story he heard in the North about magic and people who could see through the eyes of animals.

"The pack is strong."

"What all do you know, Wolf?" He wondered what Sansa spoke of around the children in the castle. She had learned to keep her own thoughts secret as she could when she was in Joffrey's power. Everyone knew her real thoughts, but she kept telling them what they wanted to hear. She was too perfect. Did this one know about how her father had been taken? He had never mentioned it to her when they traveled together.

"I know that the Targaryens will win if her Grace makes peace with the boy who looks to be her nephew and rides with Griffins. I know that a direwolf will remain by the side of a dragon that does not turn to devour it and lords of snow will always join the direwolf."

"Her Grace know who you are?"

"Her Grace has much to worry about without wasting time on small details."

Sandor shifted, wondering what she may have said to the queen. From that answer, it might be that the queen knew who she was or that she didn't.

"Her Grace promised justice for all the wrongs I have seen." A dark smile formed on her mouth for a minute.

Sandor shifted. There was doubtless reference to the ill-fated wedding where her mother and brother had been murdered in that statement. Thinking on what he had seen of Harrenhal, the conglomeration of melted walls so reminiscent of candles, he did not want to even imagine what the Twins might be when the wolf-bitch and dragon queen went to exact their vengeance.

"There are injustices you have not seen as well."

The wolf-bitch stayed silent at the comment and pushed open a side door into the audience room. There was a fresh number of lords come to pay their respects and pledge their loyalty to Queen Daenerys.

He moved slowly toward the place that had been designated by the queen that he stand, beside a statue of a lion quite near the dais. He watched as half a dozen lords approached the dais where the queen was seated with her council. Ser Barristan stood as a silent sentinel in front of the steps.

His patience and attention were beginning to wander slightly after listening to several lords praise Her Grace and speak of her virtues and how pleased they were to have a Targaryen back. It had been the same speech since the lords started arriving.

"Your Grace." The man approached the queen with a look of confidence.

Sandor stirred. It hardly seemed possible. He looked toward Ser Barristan whose eyes were flashing. The older knight looked ready to kill.

"Lord Petyr Baelish of Harrenhal, Lord Paramount of the Trident come to swear loyalty."