Author Note:
To say this is long overdue is an understatement. But here we go. I think this is it.
They left for the Twins the following morning, as planned. When Sansa woke she saw the Hound gathering their things, fully dressed with his longsword dangling from his hip. Her heart fluttered as she sat up, the cloak barely covering her as her hair fell haphazardly over her shoulders. The ache between her legs was pronounced, but it made her smile. Never had she felt more wanted. Never had she felt more safe.
"Best get moving," he said as he took a long swig from the wineskin on the table.
Sansa nodded and stood. Her legs were shaky and sore. She dropped the cloak and began pulling a dress over her head. She could feel him watching her. The shuffling on the other side of the room had quieted, and she swore she could hear a sharp intake of breath. As soon as the dress was on and she was smoothing it over her body, he moved to the door. Sansa didn't need to be told to put on the cloak and pull the hood up to cover her fiery hair. It was natural by this point. She tugged until she could only see the floor and a few paces in front of her.
They grabbed a quick meal of porridge with honey and a very tart fruit. Sansa eagerly ate. Her chest was swelling with the memories of the inn, and also with the anticipation of seeing her family. And then there was the familiar drop in her chest when she wondered what was going to happen to Sandor, the Hound, when they reached the Twins. Surely he won't leave me? Surely Mother and Robb will thank him and ask him to join their cause? As Sansa finished her breakfast, she looked up and watched the Hound's face as he finished his ale and stood. He was unreadable, as always. And even though Sansa's bravery swelled a bit more each day, she had learned which questions she could ask and what ones were better left alone.
The horses were attached to a wagon filled with butchered meat. The Hound didn't hesitate to climb onto the bench and grab the reins. Sansa hesitated and wrinkled her nose at the smell, but also at the finality of it all. This was it. They were going to the Twins. This was the last step in their journey, and something about it felt very final. The Hound extended his hand and Sansa took it without a second thought. His strength pulled her up next to him with ease. She adjusted the hood of her cloak and then they were off. The horses were swift, the cargo smelled and Sansa gripped her dress tightly. Her knuckles turned white as she contemplated what the future held. The Red Keep was behind her and the Twins was ahead.
The Twins was turning out to be a longer journey than either of them had expected. As the afternoon began to morph into dusk Sansa felt her chest tighten. What if we miss them? She hadn't let go of her dress the entire journey. The horses protested when they passed a small body of water. They stopped only for a few moments. Long enough for Sansa to make water behind a tree and the horses to get their fill of refreshment and nibble on some grass. After that short stop it didn't take long for the towers of the Twins to be seen over the treetops as the sun completely set. They were surrounded by an aura of orange. Fire. The flames of the camps set out around the grounds. The wedding.
"Don't say a word," the Hound said as they began their approach through tents filled with men drinking and roasting food over open flames. "We're bloody late," he muttered.
Sansa held her breath as they approached the exterior gate. Men laughing and shouting was a constant buzz in the air behind them. "Who goes there?" a man with the unfortunate duty of guarding the gates approached their wagon. Stranger whinnied and stomped his foot. The Hound growled and the horse settled.
"Delivery for the feast," he said with an attempted different accent. In the dark his scars were hard to see. They were facing Sansa, not the man.
The man looked at his companion behind him and smirked. "You're awfully late. I can't let you in."
Sansa grabbed the Hound's arm purely out of reflex. We have to be let inside. Mother and Robb are in there. The Hound shrugged her hand away. It stung, but she understood. "Where can I put this bloody meat then?" the Hound was beginning to sound frustrated. Sansa looked up at the identical towers. The windows glowed. Where are they?
The man shrugged. "You'll have to wait until morning, sir." The man sneered as the Hound's eyes flashed the colour of rage. Red.
Sansa gripped his arm again and didn't let him shake it off. Just as he reached for his sword and cleared his throat to speak a sound penetrated the camp. Music. The sound was sad, mournful and exceptionally familiar. Sansa widened her eyes as she looked up at the tower's windows. The sound was traveling through the camp sending a wave of silence throughout the men. Sansa looked behind her. Men who had been drinking just moments before were suddenly looking around them. And after what felt like an eternity of the melancholy sound, violence erupted. It began in the towers. Screams erupted from the stone walls and pierced the camp. And then it was suddenly surrounding them. The guards smirked and drew their swords. But the Hound was faster. He cut the horses free. Stranger immediately when for the guard and trampled over him before disappearing into the trees several paces away. Windstorm followed her new friend swiftly.
"No!" Sansa screamed as she stood from the wagon's bench and looked towards the towers. The Hound sliced the second guard and then pulled her from the wagon. "Let go of me! Mother! Robb!" Sansa screamed at the top of her lungs.
The Hound growled. He practically dragged her to the line of trees. "You need to run, little bird," he said. "There's Lannisters here."
Sansa shook her head and felt the familiar feeling of agony that accompanies losing something you hold dear. "But Mother…" her voice trailed off as she looked at one of the towers that belonged to the Twins. "Robb…" again her voice was drowned out by screams. Horses ran by them as the Hound tugged her behind a large tree.
"Dead," he answered harshly. "Don't look," he said as he pulled her head to his chest.
But of course she opened her eyes and wriggled free from his grasp in time to see a body on the back of a horse emerging from the gates their wagon stood in front of. But instead of the head of a man, the head of a direwolf was attached with spears. Robb. Men from the Twins and those wearing Lannister red were laughing and yelling while following Robb and his dead direwolf. They held swords above their heads and slashed down anyone who was not laughing or cheering with them. Sansa suddenly felt flush and turned to vomit. The Hound pulled her back to the trees just in time for her to see a group of men arrive from the same path they had taken to the gates of the Twins. One of them was the largest man Sansa had ever seen. Although, she seemed to recall having seen him once before. Her heart pounded in her chest as she rested against the Hound behind the tree.
"Your brother," Sansa murmured. "We have to leave!" Sansa practically sobbed as she stood and looked back at the Hound.
In the time it had taken her to turn the Mountain was looking at her. She was certain. He had a helm covering his face, but she could feel eyes on her face. The feeling was that of being burned alive. Is this what it felt like? Sansa began to back away, her eyes darting to the Hound standing, his longsword drawn. The fury in his eyes was plain. It was so simple. He was ready to kill his brother. Sansa cried out to him. Her voice faltered and cracked. The Mountain turned from her to the man suddenly between them. The Hound adjusted is grip on his sword.
"Run, Sansa!" he cried as he charged at his brother. Their swords clashed. The sound was deafening.
Sansa was rooted to the spot. She watched as the Hound swung his great sword and made contact with the Mountain's helm. The two parted and backed away from one another. In a quick motion, the Mountain removed his helm and threw it behind him, into the chaos. They stared at one another as Sansa breathed in deeply through her nose. The smell of burning flesh was turning her stomach again. And then there was the thought of where her Mother was. If the young wolf was dead, where was his Mother?
"I had heard you ran off with the Stark girl," the Mountain spoke like he looked. His voice was booming. It traveled to Sansa's ears easily. The sound was like thunder.
The Hound did not reply. Instead he dared to look behind him and made eye contact with Sansa. "Run, Sansa! I'll find you!" he turned back just in time for a swing from his own brother. Their swords clashed, sparks ignited. They were holding their swords together, the other trying to push closer.
The Mountain leaned in closely to the Hound and said loud enough for Sansa to hear, "Not if I find her first. All I have to do is get through you, brother." He laughed as the Hound backed away, retreating with his sword. He rolled his sword shoulder and cried out as he charged at the man who towered over him.
That was all Sansa needed to hear. With the Hound's words bouncing around in her mind she turned and ran. Screams followed her into the forest. The sound of men burning brought back memories of the Red Keep. Instead of splashing water, it was the lick of flames and sounds of anguish that filled the night air. The sounds traveled faster than her feet could carry her. They surrounded her as she ran. Hooves, men shouting and the occasional crackle of flame erupted on all sides of the woods. The feeling of panic encompassed her as she ran through the trees. I'll find you. Run! Run, Sansa! As she ran, she thought of the way her real name had urgently escaped his mouth. She remembered the way he had cried out while charging at his brother.
The trees were so thick that Sansa's dress caught on small branches and her feet caught on stones. The rocks were sharp, her shoes slipped from her feet as she scurried through the bush. The moonlight was filtering through the treetops, but it only provided a small amount of silver light that barely brightened her surroundings. The fire behind her sent an orange glow into the trees. The screams echoed behind her. Sansa cried as she felt the strings of her heart ache and stretch painfully with each scream behind her. But she kept running. I am the North.
The sound of hooves could be heard from every direction, but she knew it couldn't be near her. She ran without turning around. And it let a sob escape her lips as a branch cracked against her cheek. She tasted the blood instantly. Hot and coppery. It filled her mouth, and traveled with purpose down her flushed cheek. To avoid the same sensation she held her arms out in front of her, hoping that any coming branches would instead hit her arms and hands as opposed to her face. Each time a branch scraped along her arm the feeling was nothing compared to the hurt in her chest as her feet carried her further from the Twins. I am a wolf.
Sansa cried harder as her feet began to throb from the uneven terrain and numerous sharp rocks and fallen branches. Her determination kept her moving until she attempted to jump over a fallen tree. The silver moonlight only showed her the large trunk just in time for her legs to come up beneath her. She tried to propel herself over the trunk, but ended up scraping her legs and falling onto her hands and knees on the other side. Pain shot up her wrists, into her forearms and then hit her shoulders with force. Only then did Sansa crumble. I am weak.
Sobs propelled through her chest. The sound was only drowned out by the cries of animal and human alike. The flames sounded like waves roaring against a shore. The sound of metal clashing together rang in her ears. I thought I ran much further. She sat up and looked over the fallen tree trunk and saw the glow of orange. The smoke was rising into the sky, the outline of the Twins glowed just like the walls of the Red Keep. Sansa's eyes widened as she watched the distant silhouettes of men fighting, then the wretched noise of them dying. The grunting, the screaming, the begging. Her heart pounded in her ears, the sound of blood rushing through her body.
Sansa took a deep breath. I am the North. I am a wolf. She attempted to stand but fell immediately to her knees. "Where are you…" she muttered to her empty surroundings.
Again she tried to stand. Her knees buckled. Blood trickled down her legs. The blood felt cool in the night air. And with much effort, she jogged further into the trees. The sounds around her began to dissipate as she traveled further into the forest. The thick trees blocking out the sounds. She found a stream with an oak tree that towered into the sky. A sob worked its way from her chest to be emitted from her mouth. It was a pitiful sound. But she looked down at herself in the silver moonlight and saw dirt beneath her fingernails, slashes across her arms from the numerous branches and saw blood steadily running down her pale legs. Her dress was ripped everywhere, barely covering her legs, exposing her thighs. The wind picked up and swirled her hair behind her. Sansa leaned against the trunk of the great oak and wept. Slowly she slid her body down until she felt the cool dirt beneath her. Am I the only one left? She begged for an answer as tears ran down her cheeks. The tears stung the significant gash in her cheek. She closed her eyes and saw the rage and agony in the Hound's eyes as he told her to run. He had called her by her real name. He had said he would find her. She wept harder, clutching her middle and pulling her aching legs up underneath her chin.
It felt like a long time had passed when Sansa heard a sound. She lifted her head and paused. The sound was close. And it sound liked hooves. Sansa's heart began to beat rapidly in her chest. The horse was getting closer and all Sansa could think was that she hoped it was the Hound and not the Mountain. She heard the horse slow and the quick trots as it came to a stop. Then came the dismount of the rider. The sound was loud in her ears. He must have been right behind the tree. She heard the sound of metal, the sound of a sword be sheathed. She held her breath as footsteps went all around, not coming past the tree she clutched to.
Sansa stood as she watched the horse walk over to the creek in front of her. Stranger. She recognized him immediately. He paused and watched her, then turned his attention to the water. It must be him. But Sansa was terrified. Stranger was particular about who approached him, but did he know the Mountain? Did he let someone else ride him? Sansa let out a shaky breath, louder than she had wanted to and heard the crack of a twig uncomfortably close. The man searching paused. She inhaled sharply and waited. Waited for anything.
And then out of the dark she heard, "Little bird?"
I can't thank everyone enough for coming along on this journey with me. Be sure to leave your final thoughts. Do I need to make some changes? Once again, reviews are fantastic.