20. Disputed Guardian
Sansa awoke to the full brightness of day. She felt refreshed, although she was sore from their evening activities. There was blood on her thighs from the act, she noted when she removed the covers. But this didn't bother her. She used the cold water from her spent bath and a fresh rag to clean herself. She felt a surge of pride at her deflowering. In all her wildest fantasies, it could not have been more wonderful and astonishing. Then she turned to examine the Hound snoring softly in her bed. How insane that she could feel such intense happiness about a man that had once terrified her. Truly, she was a wolf now.
She came back to the bed and bent over him, kissing him gently. He awoke abruptly but relaxed when he saw her. He reached out a hand and brushed her cheek lightly.
"Good morning," she said, feeling nervous and excited all in one.
"You look beautiful," he mumbled.
Sansa glanced down at herself. She was completely naked. She had never felt so brazen. The Hound was gazing at her, not bothering to look away or hide the fact that his gaze lingered on the most immodest aspects of her figure. She had been terrified in the past when men saw her figure. Now she found she quite liked it.
"I should go to breakfast. They'll be expecting me," she said, feeling reluctant to leave the room at all.
"I'll come with you," Sandor said, groaning and stretching. "Got to make a good impression as your new guard."
"You should sit with me at table," Sansa suggested.
He frowned at this. "Let's just keep this simple for now. I don't need your entire family hating my guts this early in the morning."
Sansa sighed. She knew he was right. So many barriers, limitations, pressures. It was the world she had grown up in. But being with Sandor had showed her a different world, where she could choose her own path, which she quite desired at the moment.
Sandor excused himself to dress and perform the morning necessities. Sansa pulled on a modest gown and peered at herself in a looking glass on the table. She combed her already lengthening hair, examining her form carefully. Then she noticed a rather red mark on her neck. Her lips parted as she recalled last night how it had gotten there and what had been the result of it. She smiled as a small flame jumped within her. But now was not the time. She placed a bit of powder over the mark until it was dulled but not completely obscured. She liked what it represented and didn't want to erase it completely.
They met in the hall as before, Sandor in his clean leathers, his hair combed. Sansa couldn't help but blush when she saw him in the morning light. How had she ever thought him less than the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on? They walked down to the dining hall without speaking. Sansa thought she might emit steam from the ears if they discussed the previous evening in even the slightest of detail. When they entered the hall, it was to find Lady Catelyn, King Rob, the Blackfish and Lady Jeyne already at table. All of them looked up as Sansa entered and pointedly ignored the Hound as he took up a position in the corner.
"You slept in like always," Rob said, smirking at her. Sansa couldn't help but smile. For just a second she recalled their childhood at Winterfell, how Rob and the lads had always teased her, how Arya had always pestered her, how her mother had always held her to a higher standard. But then it was gone and she sat down with all the weight of her experiences over his shoulders and she knew both Rob and her mother carried similar burdens.
"Sansa," Lady Catelyn said, making a good impression of her old self confidence, but Sansa could hear an edge to her voice that had never been there during her childhood. "I'm not sure your Uncle Brynden informed you, but Edmure's been engaged to the Frey girl, well one of them. He's to be wed in three days time. We'll all be heading to the Twins. Edmure is on his way now with the soldiers. It would be lovely if you could join us."
Sansa felt as though a cold knife had touched her. All the images of her recent nightmare came flooding back to her.
"Mother," she said, her voice coming out in a quiver. "You can't go to the Twins. I think-I think something awful is going to happen there."
"What could be more awful than a Frey wedding?" Rob muttered.
"Sansa, this is our duty. We require the allegiance of the Freys to win this war," Catelyn said, shaking her head. "I don't want to go anymore than you do, but we must represent our house as well as the North."
Sansa opened her mouth but hesitated. She knew perfectly well what it would sound like if she told her about the nightmare of two nights previous. Like she had gone silly with fear most like. But those images had been clear and powerful. "Please mother, it-it sounds a horrid affair. Perhaps you could leave once it's over at least?"
"Frey will never end the night early, I'm afraid," Catelyn sighed. "He's expecting every bit of penitence we have to offer now that Rob is, well, otherwise occupied."
Rob hesitated for a moment and then placed his hand on Sansa's. "Perhaps you should stay back Sansa. You need to recover from your journey. It might be best if you remain behind."
Sansa sighed. She sat there unhappily for a while, knowing there was no use in arguing. Finally Catelyn spoke again, but she had changed the subject.
"Sansa, we have prepared the reward for Ser Clegane. 500 dragons for his trouble and your safe return." She raised her voice. "Ser Clegane, the reward is being prepared as we speak. You can have it as early as this afternoon and be on your way."
The Hound stiffened, glaring at her. "And what of my second request?" he asked tersely.
"I'm afraid a former Lannister bannerman would not make an appropriate guard for my daughter. Ser, you have my greatest appreciation for your efforts, however, and Rob has agreed that forthwith you will not be named an enemy of the North."
The Hound glared at her with his coldest gaze but did not reply. Sansa stood up. She felt angered by this treatment and would not stand for it.
"Mother, Sandor is going to be my guard, whether you will it or no," she said firmly.
Lady Catelyn gazed at her in surprise. "Sansa, really, he's hardly the right candidate for you. I'll find you a more suitable guard as soon as we return from the Twins."
"He's the only one that suits me, mother," Sansa all but shouted.
There was a shocked silence. Lady Catelyn stared at her while Rob raised his eyebrows. It was Lord Brynden that broke the awkward moment.
"I for one don't see the harm in this proposal." All eyes snapped to him. "In fact, Clegane might be a better guard than most in this case. He had already spent a great deal of time protecting the girl. I expect he knows her, ah, rather better than most."
Sansa flushed slightly. Had her uncle guessed what was going on between them? She avoided his gaze, but turned to glare at Catelyn. "Mother, you must let me choose my own guard. I will not take anyone but Sandor."
Catelyn, however, was not easily quelled. "You think I'm going to leave you in some stranger's hands after I've finally gotten you back to me? Do you have any idea how much I have sacrificed to bring you back to us?"
"But you didn't," Sansa said, refusing to back down. "Sandor did. And he kept me safe all the time I was in King's Landing being tortured and beaten on Joffrey's orders!"
"That doesn't sound like he kept you safe at all!" Catelyn snapped, standing up herself.
"Sister. Niece," Lord Brynden said, bringing the focus back onto himself. "Let us put this matter to rest for now. You just prepare for your journey to come."