Sorry for the wait for this update, RL is nuts at the moment and shows no signs of slowing down. :D I meant to join up Sandor, Sansa, Jaime and Brienne in this chapter but the muse went another way :/
Captain Manderly meets up with Jaime shortly after he enters the stables. "I've been all over for you, Ser Jaime. We got word from the woman knight that you would be coming to us. We rode out this morning to meet you."
"Her name is Brienne," Jaime said, sharply turning to the man. "Brienne, the maid of Tarth. Captain-and I use the term loosely- believe you meant to say: "Ser Jaime, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, we loyally received your personal envoy, Lady Brienne of Tarth, and immediately responded to her message."
Taken aback, Captain Manderly amends his statement. "Yes, my lord, we received your message from your personal envoy, Lady Brienne of Tarth, and immediately set out to meet you."
Jaime condescendingly appraises the man. "That's better, Manderly. There may be hope for you yet. Leave me to my business, if that is all."
"My lord, I would only inquire if you have any news of the Hound. I wish to sufficiently prepare my men."
Nonchalantly, Jaime shakes his head. "None as of yet. I am requisitioning you and your company to conduct me to the Quiet Isle as soon as I purchase a suitable mount. I have reason to believe the criminal wearing the helm of the Hound and his band will attack the septry. I expect you have spare Lannister tack on hand?"
"Certainly, Ser Jaime," Captain Manderly bows. "We serve at your pleasure, just as we served your father, Lord Tywin, the Seven rest his soul."
"Tyrion is Tywin's son, not you. I said so once to your father's face, and he would not speak to me for half a year," Jaime's aunt Genna once told him. I may not be like Father but I most certainly have the ability to sound like him when need be.
"See that you do." Jaime's mouth pulls taut, recalling his father's words. "I need you to become a man you're always meant to be. Not next year, not tomorrow... now."
"I will have it ready for your arrival." Shaken, the captain uneasily bows once more. "Pray excuse me while I go prepare the men."
Jaime waves the man away, his heart suddenly weighing heavily in his chest. I will become that man, Father, but not to destroy Catelyn Stark. I was meant to save her daughters and right the wrongs of my son and sister.
After spending the better part of an hour carefully scrutinizing each of Maddox's offerings, Jaime settles on an enormous grey and white destrier. The animal's keen eyes followed him from the moment he entered the paddock, and he immediately knew that was the horse he wanted to buy, and only looked over the other animals so as to throw off the stable owner's price.
The beast looks as though it would kill me just as soon as look at me. Just like the man's eyes I am riding to meet, Jaime thinks with a snort, wondering if the Hound is still as mean as the horse he rode into Winterfell.
"You just bought the finest animal I've had since the Hound raided the town, Ser Jaime. Where you headed?" Maddox asks, handing Jaime the reins.
"The Quiet Isle. I would have preferred a palfrey but this is a fine animal," Jaime smiles genially, offering the wary animal small pieces of apple as he pats its flank. "I didn't expect to find such among the ruins here. I answered your question and now I have one for you in return: he's clearly a trained warhorse. I'm curious: how did you come into possession of such a creature?"
The stable owner squints at Jaime and hastily steps forward as Captain Manderly appears. Jaime grips the hilt of his sword and motions two Lannister soldiers into the holding pen. "Answer me."
"Lots of animals wander loose in these parts. I go out two, maybe three times a week and round up the best ones. Fact is your father has kept me in business for many months with this bloody war."
It figures the only man with a decent mount for sale is a war profiteer. Narrowing his eyes, Jaime glares at the greasy man. "If the Lannisters have, in fact, financed this enterprise as you say, then this one should be on the house, wouldn't you agree?" When the man doesn't answer, he adds, "Do you even bother with the bodies of the men who rode them?"
Shrugging, Maddox spits on the ground. "Naw, why would I? The scavengers got to eat, too, and there's not much left by the time I show up."
Captain Manderly raises his fist to strike Maddox but Jaime takes hold of his arm and shakes his head. "Tell me, did you happen to see anyone of particular note ride into town prior to the raid?"
Scratching his beard, the man slowly nods. "Aye, after the first of the moon. A unusually large person wearing the brown dun robes of the Seven came in for supplies, as is their usual custom."
"So, aside from his size, was there anything else noteworthy about the man?"
"His squire, ha!" Maddox licks his lips. "Not a squire at all, but a beautiful girl. Doubt I've ever seen one half so pretty. Most unusual. Lucky for him half the men around here were too daft to see past her squire duds, buggering fools. They wanted that one all the same, though, and followed them out of town."
So, Clegane was here, and he has Sansa with him. At least now I know she is safe from Littlefinger and his sellswords. Drawing in a sharp breath, Jaime whips around to face Captain Manderly. "Did you know about this?"
"No, not when it happened. My men found the bodies of three Lannister soldiers in the woods sometime later with wagon tracks leading toward the Quiet Isle," he frowns.
Sounds about right, Jaime bit back a smile. After a moment he tersely asked, "What happened?"
"We went there in search of the one responsible but I saw no such person among the brothers. However-"
"Many thanks for your help, Maddox," Jaime interrupts, handing the man a pouch of coin.
"Ser, but you already paid-"
"A Lannister always pays his debts," he glances toward the soldiers. "They also expect confidential talk to be kept private, understood? Or the Hound will be the least of your worries, I promise you."
Captain Manderly dips his head as Jaime approaches. "The men saddled your mount, my lord. We are ready to leave at your leisure."
"Beg pardons milord, beg pardons!" A small nervous man with a thin mustache calls after them.
Jaime rolls his eyes, realizing the man saw him give Maddox the pouch. "What is it? Spit it out and be gone. I have important business to attend."
"Ser, me brother and I came from the Quiet Isle," he bawls. "We was lookin' for work and food and the good brothers helped us. We saw the Hound and his men riding toward the septry, fast as can be."
"Mount up men and make haste," Jaime shouts, swinging his body into the saddle. "The septry could fall under attack by nightfall."
While Sandor, Brienne and the brothers fortify the septry, Sansa watches nearby while resting on a log. Lady Brienne is a fascination to her, for she has never seen such a woman. Not only is the lady knight only a few inches shorter than her husband but she most capably sparred against him and easily manages to match Sandor's work pace, something many men in King's Landing had been unable to accomplish. Exhausted and overwrought, Sansa leans back against the wall and rubs her head. From the lichyard, Sandor looks up with a frown and hastily walks toward her.
"What is it, Little bird? Are you ill?"
"I am merely tired," she sighs with a small smile, cupping his cheek. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Brienne regarding them curiously.
Sandor places the back of his hand on her forehead. "You're flushed. I'm taking you back to the Hermit's Hole."
"No, that is not necessary. I will go to our cabin."
Sandor sets his jaw, his eyes glittering. "Aye, as long as I'm working outside."
Leaning forward, Sansa kisses him tenderly, the young woman giggling when her open display of affection brings a flush of red to his cheek.
"Bloody hells, woman," he mutters, leading her inside the cabin. "Get some rest, wife," he whispers against her forehead, tucking her into the furs. "I'll be back when I'm finished."
"Sissy, can you hear me? Sansa, hear me!" Arya's voice calls to her. Though it is no longer the childish voice she remembers, Sansa innately recognizes it is her sister.
"Arya, where are you?"
"I'm with Jaqen, Sansa. I'm learning how to protect myself so I can help get Winterfell back. I can speak with you in your dreams."
"Sandor saw you in his dream by the River with Mother-he said he spoke to you. How is this possible?"
"I saw him too," Arya replies sorrowfully. "Father helps me. He first showed me when Gregor came for you. He led me to you and Sandor. Jaqen helped me understand that I could kill him through Nymeria."
"Dearest, I will never be able to thank you for all you have done for us," Sansa cries out. "I have missed you so."
"And I you, sister."
"Why have you come, Arya?"
"I guess Sandor told you I saw Mother through Nymeria when the Freys left her by the river."
"Yes, he did. He told me that you told him to comfort me, as your friend Jaqen helped you."
"Yes." Arya sighs heavily. "Do you remember Maester Luwin speak of warging?
"Yes!" Sansa answers excitedly. "He thought Bran had the gift."
"It is not just Bran, Sansa. We all have it-you, me, Jon, and Rickon, too."
"Forgive me but I do not believe that I do, Arya," Sansa sadly admits. "If I did, I lost it when Lady died, for a part of me died with her."
"I know, Sissy, I felt it," Arya pauses. "You remember when fat old King Robert told Father to get you a dog, you'd be happier for it?"
"Yes, that was right after he ordered Lady killed. It was cruel."
"It was. I wanted to stick him with Needle for saying such. Well, for once he was right, though he was too stupid to know what he was saying. As a Stark, you can see through any animal's eyes that is akin to the wolf, Sansa-even a dog."
A dog? A Hound? Sansa's heart races through the many instances she sensed Sandor's emotions. Each time it happens it is a shared experience, of that she is certain, but is she really able to warg into him?
"You cannot mean the Hound? Sandor?" Sansa gasps even as the truth of Arya's words ring in her mind and heart.
"Sandor is yours. Father gave you a dog just as Robert said. The Clegane sigil is three hounds. Dogs are brothers to the wolf. Father saw that the Hound cared for you after he died and he knew Robb and Mother may never make it to King's Landing. In order to keep you safe, he bonded you and Sandor together there."
It is true he seemed to always be around after Joffrey killed her Father; still Sansa shakes her head in disbelief. "Then why was he always saying mean things? Why did he scare me?"
"Because he's the Hound. He killed Mycah; he didn't know how to act like a normal person, Sansa. Remember what Littlefinger said about him and his brother?"
"Yes of course."
"Well Sandor's whole childhood was messed up, Father learned all about it from Robert. He never had love growing up like we did and he didn't even know how to talk to you. It got better over time, right?"
"Yes, although we have had our share of difficulties."
"The Hound tried to drink it away, fight it away and screw it away but it didn't work."
"Arya, please don't use such words about my husband."
Arya laughs. "Always the proper lady, Sansa. Since I left King's Landing I've lived around men. Septa Mordane would faint."
Laughing, Sansa nods. "Why did Father not tell me this himself?"
"Because you were thinking of me, silly," Arya smirks at her. More seriously, she continues, "You need not fear, Sansa. Lady is with Father and she watches over you with him."
"Truly?" Sansa sobs out.
"Yes, truly," Arya answers, a small smile curling on her lips. "I am not certain to what extent this will manifest itself, Sansa, but after what happened with Gregor, Father and I believe you can warg with Sandor and possibly him with you."
Sansa has only heard of people warging into animals, not each other. The prospect both frightens and thrills her. "Is such a thing even possible?"
"Bran warged into Hodor, but it scared him badly."
"Yes, I imagine it would," Sansa whispers, discernment and fear mingling within her.
"I know it is hard to believe, but the same thing has happened to Nymeria and me. Though we are apart, she is no longer alone. She made her own pack among the wolves of the Riverlands. I made a new pack with Hot Pie and Gendry and Jaqen. He taught me to open my eyes and allow myself to see through her. You made a new pack with Sandor."
"I am happy for you, sister," Sansa replies, overwhelmed with emotion. "I do not know what to do, though. I have no one to teach me as you did."
"Jaqen only encouraged me to focus, relax and allow it in. I'll help you. The Hound is a dog no longer. Father has made him part of our pack and that is why he speaks to him in his dreams.You can see through your own wolf, Sansa."
"Arya, please help me," she implores. "Tell me tell me what I need to do."
"Trust him, believe in his strength and ability to keep you safe, and you will be able to see through Sandor's eyes. You will share your strengths and join together as one. He is as devoted to you as Nymeria is to me; he will be unstoppable with your love guiding him. You are stronger together."
Abruptly Sansa awakens to Sandor breaking down the door, trampling over the splintered pieces in his wake and rushing to her side. Lady Brienne storms in hot on his heels and begins searching the room with her sword drawn. "We heard your voice, Sansa," he explains, gathering her in his arms. Sansa sobs into his neck and pulls him closer still. "I felt you were afraid."
Satisfied Sansa is safe and alone, Lady Brienne slowly backs out of the cabin and closes the door.
"Little bird, talk to me. We heard you crying and speaking to someone. Who the fuck was here and what did they do to you?" Sandor's eyes are wild with fear and anger. Just like Shaggydog looks when Rickon is afraid, Sansa thinks briefly before answering. "It was Arya-she came to me in a dream."
Sandor lets out a deep breath and clutches her against his chest. "You are going to be too damned afraid to ever fall asleep again at this rate. What did the wolf bitch want?"
Sansa notices Sandor's dark hair is covered with white flakes of ice. She pulls her hand away from his shoulders and rubs her fingers together, puzzled. "What is this in your hair and on your robe? Is it snow?"
"Aye it began to flurry not long after I brought you back to the cabin. Who ever heard of snow this far south?" Sandor shakes his head. "I don't know what in Seven hells your Father is up to but I've had enough of this crazy shit for one day. So?"
Weakly she nods, not sure where to begin.
"Tell me, wife. I'll believe you," he says seriously, meeting her eyes. "What did you sister say?"
"She told me Father saw you had no love for Joffrey and learned of your affection for me. He knew you of your devotion long before we escaped and made the bond between us in King's Landing, so we would be connected in such a way that you would be moved to protect me, and I in turn would long to comfort and give you the love that was sorely missing from your life."
Sansa takes his hands in hers, staring into his eyes. Swallowing hard, he glances down and stares at their entwined fingers. "Did he now?"
"Yes, Arya said Father made you part of our pack," Sansa eagerly continues, encouraged by his lack of skepticism. "Lady is with Father now. He knew Robb and Mother were fighting the war and would not be able to come to me and so Father made the bond with you to keep me safe."
Gritting his teeth, Sandor runs his hands through his hair. "Fuck, Sansa, I-I don't know what to say. I know I was drawn to you after your Father died, so much so that it troubled me greatly."
The thundering of hooves and men shouting snap the couple out of their thoughts.
Lady Brienne and Elder brother run burst into the cabin. "Sandor, come quick! The septry is under attack! One of them is wearing your helm."
"Fucking bloody bastards!" Sandor shouts, instinctively pulling Sansa against him.
Elder brother draws a longsword from under his robes. "Go with Lady Brienne, Sandor. I will get Sansa to safety."
"No, I won't leave her," he growls viciously. "I can't, damn it! I knew you should have gone to the Hermit's Hole, thrice damned fucking hells!"
"Sandor, you must," the Little bird pleads while disentangling herself from his grip. "You know the sept doesn't stand a chance without you! You and Lady Brienne are the only two who have enough fighting skill to stop them!" Sansa pushes him toward the door. "Please, my love, go at once!"
Torn between leading the fight and protecting her, Sandor runs his hand down his face and swears under his breath. "Alright," he reluctantly agrees, gripping Elder brother by the front of his robes. "You'd better keep her safe, or you'll pray to be in the Seven hells before I'm through."
"Sandor, enough!" Sansa shouts, surprising the man. "Go!"
"I'll keep her safe, Sandor. You have my word!" Elder brother places his hand on his arm. "May the Seven bless and keep you both."
Elder McCann appears in the doorway. "Elder brother, we cannot make for the Hermit's Hole, the outlaws have cut off our escape. We must get Lady Sansa to the basement now!"
"Go then, take Lady Sansa to safety at once! The Hound and I will handle these outlaws," Brienne calls, dragging Sandor outside. "Save your anger for the battle, Clegane!"
"I've got more than enough stored, wench!" He roars, quickly gutting the first man who challenges him. "I'll hold them off, Elder brother. Go on men!"
The bond with Sansa fuels his rage to a level he has never before experienced. Blinded by fury, Sandor also senses a peculiar clarity, a mental and physical sharpness that allows the sword to serve as an extension of the man. Fluidly he slices through the enemy with speed and precision, the man singularly determined to keep Sansa safe.
Lady Brienne and Elder brother watch in horrified disbelief as the Hound mercilessly cuts a swath through the sellswords, killing every man in his path with frightening ferocity. Soon many of the men retreat from Sandor in fear, running out into the water in their haste to escape his bloody onslaught.
Laughing maniacally under the helm of the Hound, Rorge takes several men from the main raiding party and follows Elder brother and Elder McCann as they drag Sansa into the rear entry of the basement. The other brothers are already assembled and praying to the Warrior to protect them. The men quickly latch the door behind them in the small, dank sanctum.
Settling down with his prayer wheel, Elder brother kneels and indicates for her to join him in prayer. "Sansa, please, focus, my lady. You must have faith that the Warrior will protect Sandor."
"You don't understand," she cries out, tears streaking her cheeks. "My Father-he has bonded us from the afterlife! It is the same bond the Starks have with their direwolves, only mine was killed and so Father made mine with Sandor!"
Sansa can hardly get the words out, her breaths coming in short gasps. "I can feel his rage, the fury, his fear-all of it, Elder brother. He needs me! I must go to him!"
Elder brother takes her hands in his. "Easy, lass. Calm yourself," he dabs her cheeks with a handkerchief. "What do you mean by bonded, child? Tell me."
"The Stark line goes back to the First Men. My ancestors were the Kings of Winter and gifted by the old gods with a mystical bonding-"
Her words are interrupted by the men kicking in the door. Elder McCann carries Sansa deeper into the basement as Elder brother kills the first man that raises his weapon. "You are violating the holy sanctuary of the Seven. The Warrior bids me to end this sacrilege."
The howling of wolves fills the air. "Never have I heard so many wolves, not even in the north. The pack must be a hundred strong, Elder brother, and drawing closer," Sansa says quietly, her voice shaking in fear. Elder McCann whispers to her, "Your sigil has come to your aid, Lady Sansa."
Rorge ducks his head into the sanctum. "I've been looking for you, wolf bitch. Lord Baelish sends his regards," he cackles at her. "After I kill this old man, you and old Rorge are gonna to have some fun."
"Nymeria and I are here with you, Sansa," Arya's words whisper in her ear. "Trust Sandor. Call to him in your mind. Take a deep breath and allow yourself to see through his eyes. He will save you."
Glaring, Sansa steps closer to Rorge while focusing on Sandor's emotions. "You will not hurt me or anyone else," she says quietly, ignoring the shocked stares of the men around her. "The gods will not allow it." Rage, bloodlust, and fear course through her blood. Come to me, love. I know you feel my fear. Help me. We are stronger together.
"That so?" Rorge snarls with a laugh Closing her eyes, she drowns out the man's curses and taunts and struggles to calm herself. White gleaming light blinds her momentarily; Sansa draws in a deep breath, stilling her fear. Sandor, hear me.
Soon Sansa opens her eyes and see the outside of the septry basement once more. Wolves are swarming around the entryway, dragging the screaming men into the woods and feasting on their flesh. Closer, closer…Sandor, come to me, she repeats in her mind.
Rorge yanks her by the arm and drags her to the doorway, cursing at the top of his voice. "What's the matter, damn you? The Hound got your tongue?"
"What's wrong with her eyes?" Rorge barks out at Elder brother when Sansa does not reply.
Distracted, the holy man steps aside, staring at Sansa in awe. "You are about to find out, I am afraid," the holy man whispers, backing away from him and laying down his sword.
"Smart of you to give up. Lord Baelish never said she was damaged and he won't pay for her in this shape. She looks to be blind, I-" Rorge's words devolve into a muffled scream.
Sansa flickers her eyes near the sound of Rorge's voice and yet her concentration does not waver. Sandor's presence envelopes her, the fear within her vanishing just as quickly as it came. "You are not the Hound," she shouts over his high pitched screech.
With a bloodcurdling roar, the sellsword's screams are cut off by the vicious downward stroke of Sandor's greatsword. The force nearly severs Rorge's body in two, abruptly ending his reign of terror and sending the remains of the fearsome man sprawling to the floor at Sansa's feet.
